Friendly Fire Incident
by ArmyDT42
Summary: Harm and Mac travel to Iraq to get to the bottom of the accidental bombing of an Army unit by Marine F-18s. They soon find themselves in the middle of a war zone, facing fire from all sides. The best lead to breaking this case may just be a young Army Lieutenant struggling against the horrors of war. (Updated with CH 14)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story takes place at the end of the eighth season, following Harm's acquittal of Loren Singer's murder and prior to Mac's CIA mission to Paraguay._ _For the sake of the plot, the Paraguay mission starts in late May 2003. _

_I don't own JAG or the characters, just enjoy playing in their universe._

Chapter 1

Headquarters, Judge Advocate General (JAG) Corps, Falls Church, VA, late April 2003 . . .

Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie hustled quickly through the bullpen at JAG Headquarters, turning heads of the other denizens of the office, who were unused to seeing the two most senior JAG attorneys caught this flatfooted. Petty Officer 1 Jason Tiner had just urgently summoned them both to the Admiral's office. The look on Tiner's face as they passed him going into the Admiral's office did not stem a feeling of dread as they entered. With the U.S. fighting in both Iraq and Afghanistan, there was no shortage of tough, dangerous situations that they could find themselves in.

Upon knocking, they heard the Admiral bellow from within, "Enter!" with even more ferocity than usual. Stealing an apprehensive look at each other, both senior JAG lawyers took a deep breath and plunged forth into the lion's den. When they entered, the look on the Admiral's face said that the situation was possibly even worse than they originally thought. This did not bode well for either of them.

"Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie reporting as ordered, sir!" Harm stated, as they both snapped to attention in front of the Admiral's desk.

"You took your damn sweet time getting here!" snapped Rear Admiral (Upper) AJ Chegwidden. To say he was displeased was a drastic understatement. Although Rabb and Mackenzie had moved out immediately to the Admiral's office without delay upon being notified by Coates, there was just no pleasing Chegwidden today. It was one of those days where what he was about to say was not going to get better with time. His stern visage focused on his two most experienced officers and nearly burned a hole through them.

"No excuse, sir!" Mac stated, eyed locked dead ahead. She knew that they had gotten there as quickly as humanly possible and was not about to let the Admiral's exaggeration goad her into making things worse. She knew that this was how he was when there was a serious issue he was dealing with. It was just better to admit they were wrong and move on to the situation at hand.

"Hmmph," the Admiral groused. He knew they hadn't delayed at all in responding to his summons, but there was no way in avoiding being angry about the case he was about to give them. "At ease. Take a seat, both of you."

As Harm and Mac sat down at the two big leather chairs that were situated in front of the Admiral's massive wooden desk, Chegwidden did likewise. He closed his eyes, took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose in both frustration and irritation. He opened his eyes and looked at the report on his desk. He knew this was a very dicey situation that could be a serious powder keg if not handled properly. _That's why I asked for these two_, he sighed internally. _They are my finest investigators._

"Last night there was a major friendly fire incident in northern Iraq," he began. "Two Marine F-18 Hornets dropped several bombs on what they thought were Iraqi soldiers who had surrounded a Special Forces team that had been inserted to work with Kurdish rebels."

Harm glanced at Mac, as the Admiral paused. He then turned towards Chegwidden, locking eyes with his commanding officer. "Sir, I take it from your use of the term friendly fire, they did not hit Iraqi Army personnel."

As Chegwidden nodded his acknowledgment of Rabb's assessment, Mac spoke up. "Sir, did the Marines hit the Kurdish militia?"

A grim scowl replaced the tired look on Chegwidden's face. The change alone made both Harm and Mac's hearts drop a little lower in their chests. But it was what the Admiral said that stopped them cold. "Negative. Even worse. The Hornets dropped their ordinance on U.S. Army infantrymen from the 173rd Airborne Brigade. They were supposed to extract an SF A-team from a covert mission to capture members of the Iraqi Deck of Cards. The paratroopers were their extraction teams."

"Damn, a Marine on Army fratricide incident," Mac gasped.

"Mac, I think the more conventional term now is friendly-fire," Harm corrected. "But that doesn't mean the Army is going to take it any easier."

"The Colonel's words were far more appropriate, Commander!" Chegwidden snapped. That sentence sent a frozen spike right through both junior officers' stomachs. "The relief company suffered five killed and over a dozen wounded at first report. The Chief of Staff of the Army called the Chief of Naval Operations in a shit-fit. He wants those Marines' heads on a silver platter. The SECNAV tried to get Navy jurisdiction on the investigation, but the Army is claiming bias."

"I can see how they might think that, Admiral," Rabb started. "But they can't expect . . ."

"It doesn't matter what they can or can't expect, Commander," the Admiral fired back. "The truth is they are right. The Secretary of the Army and the Chief have been pressing the Secretary of Defense to have full Army jurisdiction over the investigation."

"Sir, we can't just be cut out of the investigation," Mac broke in. She was aghast at the incident, but was equally disturbed by the thought of no Navy representation in this investigation. It could turn into a witch hunt, with the Army looking for someone to blame for what could be a regrettable accident in the fog of war. However, Mac's protest was abruptly interrupted by a very intense Chegwidden growling at her through gritted teeth.

"Dammit Colonel, don't you think I know that?!"

Mac's eyes snapped straight ahead, as she bolted upright in her seat. Next to her, Harm did likewise. He tried to focus on the decorations above the Admiral's desk and not add to the already explosive situation. A few tense moments followed as AJ Chegwidden glared at Mac. His hawk-like gaze then turned on Harm, almost daring the poster-boy lawyer/aviator to butt in. Commander Harmon Rabb wisely did not do so.

Feeling that he had made his point, Chegwidden continued. "The SECNAV managed to convince the Secretary of Defense to allow us to work side-by-side in a joint investigation with the Army. The Army Chief of Staff was not happy, but the Secretary of the Army was satisfied with the compromise. The 173rd's own Brigade Staff Judge Advocate is laying the ground work as we speak. We will be working directly with him. However, the lead investigator will be a senior Army JAG from DC."

Harm opened his mouth to say something. Then he caught a look on the Admiral's face that came across as a clear warning that now was not the time for anymore interruptions. He quickly closed his mouth and shot a side-long glance at Mac, whose eyes just barely met his before returning to the Admiral. In his highly agitated state, Chegwidden would be even less forgiving of breaches of discipline than usual. No, Harm decided, whatever I have to say can wait.

"The Secretary of Defense personally called me this morning to inform me that he wants this investigation undertaken with the utmost professionalism," Chegwidden continued after a long moment. "Which is why I am assigning the two of you to represent the Navy during this joint investigation. I want you to get to the bottom of this and quickly. Leave no stone unturned and try to make nice with our Army brethren. "

"Aye, aye sir," Harm replied. Mac just nodded in consent. She was deep in thought and a deep frown was plastered on her usually lovely features.

"Alright you two, what are your questions?" Chegwidden asked, knowing full well that he was in for a barrage of questions he knew he either wouldn't like, or be able to give satisfactory answers to. AJ Chegwidden hated not being able to give his people everything he could to help them succeed. Such is life in the Navy, AJ, he thought.

The Admiral's question brought Mac out of her reverie and her deep dark eyes focused on her commanding officer. Before her partner to even open his mouth, Mac asked the first questions. "Sir, why are you sending us? Surely there are qualified Navy and Marine JAGs in Iraq capable of handling this case."

"Well Colonel, our theater JAGs are pretty damned busy with Rules of Engagement issues, Law of War investigations and their regular duties," the Admiral began tersely. "The Fleet has its JAGs all over Iraq, Afghanistan and the neighboring countries, in addition to being aboard ship. Not only are our people stretched thin, but these are special circumstances. The SECNAV told me to put my best people on this. He doesn't want this to be a turf war between the Army and the Navy, but he also wants our people to get a fair shake."

Harm chose that moment to jump into the conversation. "Sir, that makes sense, but it sounds like it will this probably end up a turf war, whether we want it to or not. I mean, the Army will obviously try to pin the fault solely on the pilots."

"And that's why I am sending you two, Commander!" the Admiral snapped. He really hated repeating himself, especially to officers who ought to know better by now. "You are my two most senior attorneys here at Headquarters and a formidable investigative duo when you can actually put your squabbles aside and work together. Plus, this is not the first time the two of you have handled a friendly fire incident involving our aircraft and friendly ground forces."

With that comment hanging in the air between then, Mac looked at Harm with a wry grin on her face. He, in turn, gave her a baleful look, knowing exactly which incident the Admiral was referring to. Earlier that year, Mac argued a case before Harm on the judge's bench, prosecuting a naval aviator accused of attacking what turned out to be British military personnel. There were some tense moments between them, as it looked like Harm was purposely giving her a difficult time from the bench. Mac even went so far as to ask the Admiral to have Harm recuse himself due to inability to remain impartial. They eventually worked the situation out and the aviator was grounded, despite the fact that he was found not guilty. It was a workable enough compromise, despite the strain on their friendship.

Mac turned back toward the Admiral and said, "Admiral, I can guarantee that we will do our best to keep the investigation as even-keeled as possible. That being said, I have to ask, who is the Army sending from their JAG Headquarters?"

Chegwidden didn't even look down at the paper in the report file. He knew the name and reputation quite well. And his people would too. Hell every military lawyer in Washington knew his name. This was not going to make Harm and Mac's job any easier, which was another reason to send the both of them. "The Army is sending Lieutenant Colonel Sean Stallworth to be lead investigator on this."

"Sean Stallworth?" Rabb echoed. "The guy who prosecuted the soldiers at Fort Bragg for beating their squadmate to death because he was gay? And who successfully won the defective Humvee armor case last year? Wow, they are really not messing around."

The lines around Chegwidden's face only got deeper as he acknowledged Rabb's point. Sean Stallworth was like Harm and Mac combined, without the outward personal baggage, and with a penchant towards political networking. Also, unlike Harm and Mac, he was also a career military lawyer, not a former pilot or admin officer. He had the highest case victory rate in the Armed Forces. But, he also appeared to have his eye on either a federal judge's position or possibly political office.

"No they aren't, Commander," the Admiral replied, for the first time not angrily. "The Army is out for blood right now and it's easy to see why. The company that was hit was one of the companies that jumped into northern Iraq back in March. They've been out in enemy territory with minimal support pretty much ever since. Despite the fact that their drops weren't hotly contested, they've been in the thick of the fight lately, and only recently have received reinforcements, resupply and armor support. These Soldiers have performed superbly but they are exhausted.

"And to be perfectly honest, the Army has been taking the brunt of the fighting in Iraq since the initial invasion. They have the most personnel on the ground, and aren't buying the reports that the enemy is finished. I need you both to work with the Army JAGs and find out just what the hell happened out there yesterday. If the Marine pilots are guilty, then I want them punished, but if they are not guilty, I need you to make sure they don't get railroaded either. It's hard enough to lose US servicemen and women to enemy action, but it's even worse when we are responsible for their deaths ourselves."

Silence hung between the three officers for several long moments. The Admiral's last words seemed to echo in the big hardwood office. Even the beautiful early morning spring sunlight that filtered through the windows couldn't remove the pall that had fallen over the room. All three had seen combat and had seen people killed in action. All three had also taken lives in the line of duty. But, no matter how much combat experience or how many brushes with death, nothing could shake the sickening thought of accidentally killing fellow service members, even those in other branches.

"Admiral," Harm said firmly, finally breaking the silence. "When do we leave?"

"There is a chartered private jet waiting for you at Andrews as we speak. You will be flying with Col. Stallworth. Grab your gear and get to the bottom of this quickly."

"Aye, aye sir!" Harm and Mac responded loudly and simultaneously, as they snapped to attention.

"Good. Play nice with Col. Stallworth and the 173rd. Now, get going and good luck."

Harm and Mac exchanged raised eyebrows as they were leaving Chegwidden's office. This was definitely going to be a very intense and possibly highly incendiary investigation. Things had been shaky since Harm's accusation and subsequent clearance of the murder of Lieutenant Loren Singer; however, this was as high a priority a case as they were likely about to receive. For him to be assigned to this case, it showed that the Admiral had not lost faith in him as an officer, a lawyer or a person. That meant a lot to Harm and he knew he was going to have bring his A-game to prove that the Admiral's faith was well placed.

"Well Flyboy," Mac began with a sardonic grin on her face. "Looks like you are really back in the saddle. Are you ready to face the Army's big guns?"

He flashed her his trademark aviator grin, and cocked his head towards her. "I prefer the term cockpit. And as for the Army's big guns, I hope that we can all agree that we are on the same side and work together to get to the bottom of this."

That stopped Mac short. The usual cocky former aviator seemed to be ready to play ball, and possibly not try to out posture or out macho the other side. _Maybe he really has learned from his experience with the murder accusation_, Mac thought.

Seeing her perplexed look at his change of attitude, Harm's smile fell and a grim look took ahold of his features. "We're going to have to on this one Mac. No one wins in a friendly fire incident."

_A/N: I would love to get some reviews._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews. As for the title of the story, friendly-fire is not the doctrinal military term. I never liked the term myself and the doctrinal term is fratricide, or in more recent military vernacular, "Blue on Blue." As a veteran myself, I was trying to be as accurate as possible with my terms and definitions, but I had to simplify the military jargon. According to the US Army, "Fratricide is the employment of friendly weapons and munitions with the intent to kill the enemy or destroy his equipment, or facilities, which result in unforeseen and unintentional death or injury to friendly personnel." The later chapters are already featuring characters who despise that term. _

Chapter 2

Second Lieutenant Thomas Daniels looked around the Battalion Aid Station at one of the grimmest sights he'd ever seen in his life. There were wounded men everywhere, crying out in pain, moaning softly to themselves, blood dripping onto the ground. Medics rushed back and forth between the cots in the makeshift trauma area. Everyone was at wits end. It had been like this all night, and most of the medical personnel were on the verge of collapse. Tom felt the same way, but he couldn't even close his eyes. Not even for a minute. Not since the bombing . . .

_12 Hours earlier . . ._

"Annihilator 6, this is Red 1, we can see the beacon. Over," whispered Tom Daniels into his radio headset.

"_Red 1, this is Annihilator 6. Good copy. Have you made contact yet?"_ asked his company commander, Captain Marcus Cunningham.

"Negative, Annihilator 6. The Red Wolves have not made contact with Chupacabra," Tom replied, using the call sign for the Special Ops team they were extracting. "Also negative on any enemy contact. Have any other Annihilator elements detected anything?"

"_That's a negative, Red 1. Keep your eyes and ears open and be ready for anything. Annihilator 6 out!"_

Tom handed the headset back to his radioman, Specialist Zach Kelso after completing his report to his commander. He moved forward to where his lead squad was set up in over-watch of the scheduled link-up point. It was dark, and he had to lower his night vision goggles to his eyes so he better navigate the uneven terrain and make as little noise as possible. SPC Kelso followed him, as did two more Soldiers, who covered their platoon leader's rear during movement.

As Tom quietly picked his way to his lead element, he thought about the mission at hand. His company, Alpha Company, the Annihilators, were tasked to link up and extract a Special Forces team that had been sent out after one of Saddam Hussein's sadistic unit commanders in Iraq. The man, Colonel Raheem Jamil al Hassani, was a ruthless disciplinarian and the butcher of hundreds of Kurds in northern Iraq during the purges in the 1990's. The locals called him "the Soul Catcher," because they believed when he looked into your eyes, he would steal your soul to feed his unquenchable bloodlust. His own men feared him, and his superiors let him do whatever he wanted, so long as he continued to make the Kurds suffer.

The mission briefing several hours earlier had convinced Tom that Col. Al Hassani really needed to receive an Old Testament punishment. However, the Army wanted him alive to not only gather intelligence on the Iraqi military, but also to put him on trial for war crimes. The Special Forces team, coded named Chupacabra, was detailed to sneak into al-Hassani's camp and capture him. Al-Hassani was on the run from both Kurdish militia and coalition forces and had taken his most loyal forces and moved out of his headquarters and into the desert. Army Intelligence uncovered a lead on the camp's whereabouts and tasked a Special Forces team to conduct the raid to capture the "Soul Catcher."

During the briefing, the "Annihilators" were assigned to be the primary effort for the mission. They were tasked to link-up with and extract the Special Forces team and their prisoners, providing protection during movement back to Headquarters for debriefing and the interrogation of any prisoners. A secondary mission was to prevent the team's interception by Republican Guard units operating in the area or Col. al Hassani's own black operations troops.

Tom's platoon was supposed to be in support of the company's 2nd Platoon, led by Tom's friend, Second Lieutenant Joseph Swenson. Joe's platoon was the company's main element. Its mission was to be the extraction platoon, while Tom's First Platoon and Third Platoon were to protect its flanks from enemy action, and support its withdrawal upon link-up. The mission was supposed to be a classic link-up and extraction, and had gotten underway exactly as planned, that is, until the appointed rendezvous time. When that time passed, the troops on the ground began to get worried.

"_Red 1, this is White 1 have you seen or heard anything? Over."_ came the voice over the radio. SPC Kelso handed Tom the radio set and told him Second Platoon was calling in.

"White 1, this is Red 1, say again, over?" was Tom's reply.

"_Red 1, this is White 1, I repeat, have you seen or heard anything? Over!"_ Joe Swenson's voice sounded a bit anxious. Tom sympathized with his friend. It was a very important mission and tensions were high. They were out in unfriendly territory with plenty of enemy forces in the area. Joe was the tip of the spear for this operation and he was beginning to feel the strain. Tom knew his friend would keep it together, but he wanted to make sure that Joe knew that Red Platoon had his back.

"Negative White 1, we haven't seen or heard anything yet. I was about to send a fire team to probe up our azimuth about 100 meters. They will be off your right flank, over."

"_Good copy Red 1. Thanks for the heads up and support, over."_

"White 1, when was the last time you sent a recon element forward to see if they are in the area but at slightly different coordinates? If they were waiting out an enemy patrol, that would slow them down, over."

"_Acknowledge Red 1. That's a good point. Will contact Annihilator 6 and let him know we are sending out a leaders recon forward of our position. Will let you know distance and direction once it's approve by the CO, over."_

"Roger that White 1. Red Wolves standing by in support of your operation, over."

"_Acknowledge Red 1. And thanks. White 1 out."_ Joe's voice sounded more relieved after talking to Tom. Joe was a very bright young man, who was eventually going to be a military intelligence officer after a few years in the infantry. He did pretty well as an infantry platoon leader in the interim, however, he could occasionally get tunnel vision and get a little obsessive when assigned important missions. That's when he leaned on Tom, who was more than glad to lend a hand.

Tom moved at the low ready to wear his lead squad leader was lying down, scanning his squad's twelve o'clock. The staff sergeant acknowledged his platoon leader's arrival with a nod of his head. As Tom lay down beside him, the squad leader handed his lieutenant a stick of gum and laid out a copy of the mission map.

"Well Mitch, what can you tell me about what's in front of us?" Tom whispered, around the fresh gum.

Clearing his throat, Staff Sergeant Abel Mitchell looked at his platoon leader and spoke quietly, "Sir, not much right now. Can't see any movement out there and I sure as shit can't see the other side of that wadi from here. Alpha team is ready to go probe ahead for any sign of Chupacabra or enemy forces. Unless you've heard something otherwise, we should get them on their way. We are already half an hour past link-up time."

The young platoon leader pondered the information that his veteran squad leader gave him. He knew that Mitchell was right about the link-up time being past due. But he was also mindful of what he just talked to Joe Swenson about. This far out in enemy territory, with both regular and irregular Iraqi forces known to be in the vicinity, Tom didn't want his men exposed any longer than they had to be. However, they weren't the main effort, and needed to make sure they didn't do anything to foul up the operation by jumping the gun.

Just as Tom was about to give the order for Alpha team to move out on the planned recon, he heard Kelso answer the radio. The radioman handed Tom the handset just as he heard, _"Red 1, this is White 1, do you copy, over?"_

"This is Red 1, read you Lima Charlie over," Tom responded in a hush.

"_Red 1, just got off the horn with Annihilator 6,"_ came the staticy voice of Joe Swenson. _"He gave us the go ahead to send out our recon element to scout for Chupacabra. Have you launched your own element yet, over?"_

"Negative White 1, we were just about to do so. Is there an issue, over?"

"_Red 1, negative. Just making sure we were targeting your people, over."_

"Acknowledged, White 1. We will be sending our recon out parallel to yours on the same axis of advance azimuth. Our position is roughly 150 meters directly to your east. Recommend we launch recons at the same time. How copy, over?"

"_Good copy Red 1. Will send out recon elements in five mikes. White 1 out."_

Tom looked over at SSG Mitchell as he handed Kelso back the hand mike. "Have Alpha team move out in five mikes. White Platoon will be sending out their own recon on the axis of advance azimuth at the same time, roughly 150 meters to our west. Make sure our guys remember the appropriate challenge and passwords. We don't need any friendly fire incidents with either White Platoon or Chupacabra. We clear on that Mitch?"

The experience non-commissioned officer nodded his head at his platoon leader and said gruffly, "Roger sir. Smitty knows his shit and his team is solid. But I will remind him anyhow."

Tom felt better hearing that reassurance. "Good. Now get them ready to roll in four mikes."

As he watched Mitchell crawl over to the recon team, Tom checked his watch. He didn't need to check back in with his commander for another twenty minutes. Once the recon team moved out on their mission, he figured that he would head back towards the middle of his formation and check in with his platoon sergeant. He had travelled behind his lead squad for a majority of the march and wanted to make sure the rest of his platoon was ready for action when the moment came.

Seeing the tell-tale signs of movement in the vicinity of the recon element, Tom and his three Soldiers slowly and quietly made their way to the makeshift platoon rally point about twenty meters to their rear. There he checked in with his platoon sergeant, getting updates on the whole platoon. Double checking that each squad was in their proper position and that the medic and litter team were set in the center of the formation, Tom started to feel better. He knew his platoon was squared away for the extraction and that after two months of combat, they were battle-hardened. The "Red Wolves" were definitely ready for anything.

Or so they thought. Just as Tom had checked his watch to see that his recon team had been gone for about fifteen minutes, there came a bright light flashing skyward, directly ahead of the platoon about 200 meters in front of them. Shouts came from that direction and that was followed quickly by spurts of gunfire. Word came down from SSG Mitchell that the recon team had encountered enemy forces. As Tom was trying to get comms with his commander, a faint roar was heard in the distance.

Tom looked up as he recognized the sound of military jet aircraft streaking into the vicinity. His attempts to contact his commander were unsuccessful. Confusion was beginning to grip his platoon, despite their experience. Tom was about to move out two squads to extract his recon element when they heard the sounds of personnel moving quickly to their front.

Seized by duty and ingrained leadership, Tom scrambled up to his forward element with his rifle ready. His platoon sergeant was moving two squads up on line with First Squad, in preparation to repel oncoming enemy forces, should they be pursuing the recon team. As Tom and his subordinate leaders prepped their Soldiers for the inevitable firefight, the roars from overhead became deafening.

And then all Hell broke loose.

_Back in battalion aid station . . ._

Tom shuddered as he relived hose horrible moments while being treated at the battalion aid station. Despite his protests that his injuries were minor compared to those suffered by many in the company, both his battalion and company commander ordered him to receive treatment. He was the last of the injured to be seen, as he had refused to leave the site of the bombing while his men were still in danger. He gritted his teeth and worked through the pain, the grief and the rage.

_Our own motherfucking birds blew us up and our mission went to complete shit_, he seethed as the medics plucked a couple pieces of shrapnel and debris out of his left arm and leg. He grimaced, but refused to cry out as the medics tried to patch him up. He was running on adrenaline and anger.

_What the Hell could have happened to have our own people mistake us for the enemy? I don't care what has to happen or how long it takes, I am going to get answers to this. _ He blinked through the pain, and a tear rolled out of one eye. Thomas Daniels was going to find some answers alright, because he owed it to his platoon, and because the truth was owed to everyone lying here in this bloodstained triage tent.

"Good see that you've finally decided to get looked at, Tom," came a voice from behind him. Tom gingerly turned his head, and saw CPT Cunningham walking towards him. With him was the battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Victor Stepanek. Tom attempted to get off the makeshift exam table to come to attention for his leaders. However, seeing the medics struggling to treat the stubborn junior officer, LTC Stepank raised his hand in a halting motion.

"Stay seated Lieutenant," was the terse command from LTC Stepanek. "If you keep moving, they are liable to sew things together that aren't supposed to be attached."

Tom knew better than to argue with LTC Stepanek. He was a hardass, old school infantryman, spending nearly all his time in light units that were knee deep in action. He'd served with the 82nd Airborne in Panama and Haiti, the Rangers during the Gulf and with the 101st Airborne in the Balkans. Victor Stepanek was notoriously hard on young lieutenants. The fact that a brand new second lieutenant like Tom was given a platoon in the jump force was shocking to most that knew the old man well.

Though his face was its typical undecipherable mask, Stepanek's emotions were roiling beneath his granite features. The only giveaway of how he felt inside was the burning pain and rage that could be seen glinting in his eyes. Tom saw the maelstrom in his eyes and it chilled him to the bone. The old man was furious about this hellacious waste of brave and valuable lives, and Tom could only feel that his commander was about to hold him responsible. _Why shouldn't he_, Tom thought. _I am responsible. I have to be. Otherwise this fucking disaster wouldn't have happened._

"Yes, sir. Sorry sir," was Tom's only response. He was waiting for the axe to drop on his neck. He slumped down slightly on the exam table, as the medics resumed working on his injuries.

"Lieutenant Daniels," Stepanek growled. "What is the status of your platoon?"

Tom snapped his eyes towards his superiors and stated, "Sir, before I was practically tackled by my senior medic for treatment, at last count my platoon had six wounded, one critically."

A throat cleared from behind Tom and the three officers turned to look at the man. The senior medic walked up and addressed the battalion commander, and indirectly, Tom. "Sir, I apologize for interrupting, but the lieutenant's report is inaccurate." The man paused, choked down whatever he was feeling and continued, "It's my unfortunate duty to report that Sergeant Malcolm Smith just died. I am sorry, we did everything we could. His injuries were non-sustainable."

The words hit Tom like ton of bricks. He blanched and the color drained from his face. "Smitty's dead? It's my fault," he whispered, not realizing anyone could hear him. "He was my best team leader and I let him down."

Tom tried to regain his composure, struggling to choke his emotions down in front his commanders and fellow Soldiers. He forced himself to sit upright and shook his head to clear his vision. With that not working particularly well, he snapped his eyes shut and squeezed, to force back the tears he knew were welling up. Now was not the time to show weakness. He had to take responsibility for his actions.

He was about to make another attempt to get off the exam table and take the firestorm from the commander when a big hand was laid on his uninjured shoulder, gently keeping easing him back down. A deep, gravelly voice said softly, "It's not your fault son, and you most definitely did not let him down."

Tom looked up into the face of LTC Stepanek, seeing the rage in his eyes gone, replaced by sadness and sympathy. That cracked the dam for Tom. He blinked sharply twice and several tears escaped. He quickly wiped them away, realizing that he was showing negative emotions in front of his commanding officer.

"I'm sorry sir," Tom choked out, practically blurting. "I carried out my orders exactly. We sent a recon element forward to make contact since they were over a half hour late. I should have waited for further guidance, I know, and then we heard firing and the aircraft overhead and . . ."

"Tom, stop, son," came a louder response from Stepanek. "From everything your company commander has been telling me, you and your Soldiers were doing everything you were supposed to. Something happened out there with Chupacabra that caused them to call in an airstrike on your position."

That stunned Tom. The Special Forces team called in fire on his company's position. It was shocking and sickening at the same time. "Sir, what does that mean for us?"

Victor Stepanek took his hand off of Tom's shoulder and slammed it into his other hand. "It means that someone's going to pay for this egregious mistake and totally senseless loss of life. You mark my words gentlemen, the sons of bitches that caused this will burn."

_A/N: All reviews are welcome._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and comments. To clarify a couple points, I am a veteran and have used some of my experiences to help me write this story. However, I have fortunately never been on the receiving end of in-coming fire from friendly forces. I hope that you enjoy my interpretations of the JAG characters, and that you don't mind them sharing equal time with my original characters._

Chapter 3

Harm and Mac arrived at Andrews Air Force Base about three hours after their meeting with Chegwidden. He had let them go pack their gear and retrieve everything they would need for the investigation. They had travelled together, first stopping at Mac's to drop off her Corvette and allow her to gather pack. Then Harm drove them both to his Union Station loft, where he parked his Corvette, packed and loaded up his SUV. They were both ready to go within two hours of receiving their mission.

The drive to Andrews was mostly quiet, with only a few thoughts exchanged on the case at hand. Since Harm's trial for the murder of Lieutenant Loren Singer, Harm's relationship with Mac, and with a lot of other members of the JAG staff, had been strained. Even though he'd been acquitted and the real perpetrator had been caught, Harm had been bothered by the fact that the Admiral had kept his coworkers away and that some of them really seemed to believe that he might actually have done it. His relationship with Mac was particularly strained, as it had hit another rough patch.

_Figures that now had to be another one of our rough spots, _Harm mused to himself. A seven hour flight to Germany, then six hour flight to Kuwait and finally a two hour flight to northern Iraq in a transport plane was not the best situation to be trapped with Mac during one of their strained periods. To make matters worse, they were going to be saddled with the Army's super lawyer, Sean Stallworth. The man was supposed to be the finest litigator in the military, a political opportunist and a bit of a windbag. Harm was not looking forward to the travelling situation at all.

Mac spared a sidewise glance at Harm as they drove to Andrews. She knew things hadn't been right with them since Singer's murder. Having Harm think that she had doubted his innocence was killing her inside. To make matters worse, she can't really say that she had completely believed him at some points in the investigation. She was also still hurting from the revelation that he had secretly investigated who might have impregnated Loren behind her back. Two solid days of travelling to a war zone with a hotshot Army lawyer while trying to deal with their frayed friendship was definitely not on Mac's list of things to do when she woke up that morning.

"So what do you know about Stallworth," she asked finally, trying to cut the tension in the car.

Not taking his eyes off the road, Harm replied, "Pretty much what I mentioned in the Admiral's office. Unlike you or me, he is a cradle military lawyer. Went to West Point and then went straight to Yale Law School. His only military experience has been as a judge advocate. He's their golden boy, and rightly so. He goes after the political hot button cases and dives head first into each one. While he's never pulled some of the courtroom magic that I have . . ."

"Magic?" she snorted. "Try spectacles. Or did you think those bullets you fired into the ceiling were magically going to pass through the roof?"

Harm grunted at her and continued on with his profile. "Always hilarious Marine. Anyhow, he may not have been as, shall we say, creative, in the courtroom, but he has a flair for the dramatic and is a very powerful orator during open and closing arguments. Plus his win-loss record is astronomical. And we definitely cannot underestimate either his political savvy or his goals for advancement."

Mac frowned. She didn't like the sound of that. Her knowledge of Lt. Col. Stallworth mostly came from articles in the newspapers and sound bites on television. She knew he was a brilliant attorney with plenty of high profile cases under his belt, but that description could apply to both herself and Harm. The biggest difference seemed to be that he sought out the spotlight and the attention that came with it. He went after the big cases not just to ensure justice was done or that it was his duty, he went after them to advance his career and make a big name for himself.

A thought occurred to Mac as they neared the gates to Andrews AFB. "Harm, how do you know so much about Col. Stallworth? I don't recall you ever facing him in court, unless it was prior to my arrival at JAG."

The pilot-turned-lawyer sighed and looked straight ahead. He definitely didn't want to admit this to anyone, particularly Mac, but he knew she wouldn't let it go, so he resigned himself to letting her in on this dirty little secret of his. _This is going to be embarrassing, _Harm thought.

"You're right, I've never faced him in court," he began, tentatively. "However, I have followed his career the last few years, as he started to light DC on fire. Honestly, I've always wanted a chance to face him in court, you know? Test his mettle. Hell, test my mettle."

Mac turned to him, with a quizzical look in her eye. "Well that answers the question partly, but it raises another. You seem to have some insider information on him. Mind sharing where you got it with your partner?"

Partner. For this case they definitely were, however, he wasn't sure they were really partners in the long term anymore. Harm knew there were some things they needed to hash out before they could really be the team they used to be. Unfortunately, they hadn't had a chance for that talk before this assignment came up. And this definitely was not the right time or place for it. There were too many more important issues at hand.

Sighing again, Harm spared a quick look at Mac and spilled his secret source. "To tell you the truth Mac, I got most of my information from Sturgis."

She blinked at him, slightly stunned. "Sturgis? I wouldn't have pegged him for an idle gossip. He's too much of a straight arrow for that."

He snickered at the thought of the holier-than-thou Sturgis Turner being a gossip. "Please Mac," he scoffed. "Spreading around gossip is far too beneath the man. Hell, I'm pretty sure the guy starches his underwear."

Suppressing a snicker herself, Mac actually could imagine that Sturgis just might be the kind of man who irons and starches his underwear. "Starching his underwear aside, how does Sturgis know all this about Stallworth? Ahhh . . . I think I see where he might get his information. He got it from Bobbie Latham didn't he?"

The mention of the brash and fiery Congresswoman made Harm's mind wander for just a minute. His relationship, whatever it had been, with her, was far less clear than Sturgis's relationship with her. Although they had dated for a while, she couldn't commit to the level that Sturgis needed. However, she did like to share some of her political insider information to people she felt could help her use it.

Ironically, despite all that, in this case it wasn't the truth. "Surprising no," was Harm's response. "Sturgis actually squared off with him when he was stationed at Pearl. Stallworth was the Staff Judge Advocate for one of the brigades of the 25th Infantry Division. According to Sturgis, Stallworth, with less of a case, kicked his ass. We both know how good a lawyer Sturgis is, and that concerns me. Apparently, the grand theatrics are just a smoke screen for some really damn good lawyering."

Mac mulled over what Harm had said. Sturgis Turner was an exceptional lawyer who wasn't given to bouts of hero worship. This investigation was going to be difficult enough without the prerequisite inter-branch competition with the Army. Of course now that she was beginning to hear about what kind of lawyer they were going to be working with, it at least allowed her to formulate a strategy.

Before she could response to what Harm had said, they pulled up to the gate at Andrews. After showing their ID's, they were allowed onto base and headed for the military flight terminal. They parked his SUV and grabbed their bags, not talking much on the way to the terminal. When they showed their ID's and orders to the NCO at the front desk, they checked their bags and were directed through security and towards a private part of the terminal.

When they walked into a small, lightly populated waiting area in the charter terminal, they both immediately noticed a figure sitting quietly reading facing the window. Harm, from his research on their new partner/possible adversary, recognized Lt. Col. Sean Stallworth, even from the back. Nodding towards the Army's hotshot legal ace, Harm and Mac walked around to where Stallworth was sitting, intending to introduce themselves and get acquainted.

"Excuse me, Col. Stallworth," Harm said as he walked up to the seated Army officer.

Col. Stallworth looked up at the mention of his name and saw a Marine and a Naval officer heading his way. "Yes?" he responded.

"I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, and this is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. Looks like we are going to be working together on this investigation. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Sean Stallworth stood up and took the proffered hand of the big Navy lawyer. "Thank you Commander. It is nice to meet you as well." Then he turned towards the female Marine officer and extended his hand to her as well. "Colonel . . . Mackenzie is it? Sean Stallworth. I must say, I've seen my fair share of Marines during my time in Hawaii, but I have never quite seen one that stops all activity in a room quite like you do."

Mac blushed slightly, with a small smile crossing her features. She knew that she shouldn't really allow that kind of behavior to go on, but with things as tense as they had been with Harm, it was nice to have someone compliment her. She looked the Army officer over and several things came to mind. He was tall, slender, with brown skin, a slightly darker tone than Sturgis. His hair was only slightly graying at the temples, and while he wore glasses, they gave him a look that was more distinguished and suave than bookish. "Ah, thank you Col. Stallworth, sorry, Sean. Please, call me Mac."

Sean raised an eyebrow, but smiled at that. "Mac, eh? Well if that's what you desire, it is quite a pleasure to meet you."

Harm rolled his eyes. Another smooth operator trying to woo Mac with silky words and grandiose gestures, that's just what this trip needed. This was definitely disappointing to Harm. Not only did he get to watch another guy hit on Mac right in front of him, that guy happened to be a highly acclaimed military lawyer whom he had been very interested in working with. _Talk about a letdown,_ he groused to himself.

As if sensing her partner's discomfort, Mac attempted to steer the conversation away from her and back to the group. "Ah Cmdr. Rabb and I are looking forward to comparing notes on the incident with you. This is such a tragic situation and we need to find the truth quickly. Don't you think, Harm?"

He turned towards her, fully realizing that she was throwing him a line into the conversation. Deciding to stow his irritation, he joined the discussion fully. "I do Mac. Col. Stallworth, as I mentioned to Mac earlier, there are no winners in this type of situation. We need to set aside inter-service rivalries and work together to get to the truth."

Stallworth tore his eyes away from Mac and eyed the taller man. It appeared that this powerful looking man definitely looked like he had a thing for the stunning Marine. He could see that there was some sort of connection between the two. However, there was no ring and she had been quite receptive to his charm. There seemed to be nothing official between them, and the interest appeared to be mostly one way, with the commander's interest not being fully returned by the colonel. However, the man could definitely be a challenge, which was fine because Sean Stallworth relished a good challenge.

Pouring on his best politician's smile, Stallworth responded, "Well said Commander. I agree that we must get to the bottom of this disaster. This waste of American life is both unnecessary and unacceptable. I promise you that the guilty will pay."

At that comment, Harm and Mac exchanged a look that said _I hope he's not looking for a victory instead of the truth._ That was not a good way to start the investigation prior to them even arriving in theater. It that was the case, this was definitely going to devolve quickly into an Army-Navy/Marine pissing contest, with both sides blaming each other and losing sight of finding the truth. Harm did not like the feeling he was getting at the moment, but he hoped that it was just a misunderstanding due to differences in personality.

"Well I have no problem with making the guilty pay for their crimes, Colonel. That's if there actually are guilty parties," Harm finally responded to Stallworth's declaration.

The Army officer gave Harm an appraising look. His politician's smile seemed to morph into a more genuine one. "Another well stated argument Commander. Of course our first duty is to conduct a thorough investigation. And as the lead for this investigation, that is something I must insist on. We will leave no stone unturned and we cannot let ourselves be pressured by higher-ups to sweep anything under the rug, just for the good of the service. Our first duty, of course, is to justice!"

Harm tried not to roll his eyes at Stallworth's pontification, but he had to agree, that they had to conduct a thorough investigation. He looked over at Mac who seemed to be a bit, if not enthralled, but possibly interested by Stallworth's grandiose exhortations of legal virtue. This officer is definitely one bred to work in Washington, and he certainly fit into Sturgis' description as a man with powerful oratory skills, just as well suited for the Senate as for the courtroom.

"That's a very noble attitude, Sean," Mac said. "Do you think that we can accomplish that on such a hot button subject? And without dragging our respective branches into a blame-game and turf war?"

That caught Stallworth just a little off-guard. He had thought that he had been able to fully bring the gorgeous Marine under his sway. It appeared that he had underestimated her and that was something that he would not do again. She is most definitely not just a pretty face and would be both a valued partner and if necessary, a worthy opponent. The Navy did not send a pair of slugs to assist in the investigation, it appeared.

"Well Mac, I actually do think we can find justice, despite the sensitive nature of the incident," came Sean's reply. "It is in the best interests of all involved that we get to heart of the matter expeditiously. And it is certainly my goal to ensure that we find the cause of this tragedy. The loss of American lives at the hands of American service members is detestable, and the Secretary of the Defense is extremely anxious to find out what happened."

As Stallworth was pontificating again for his two counterparts, an Air Force major came up to the group and respectfully cleared his throat to get their attention. "Excuse me, gentlemen, ma'am, I'm Major Jorgensen, the co-pilot for your flight today. We are ready for you to board now. Your bags have already been loaded."

They all turned and acknowledged the major's message and grabbed their carry-one bags. Harm was about to turn to Mac and suggest that they sit together to go over all the particulars of the incident that they received from the Admiral when Stallworth interrupted.

"Mac, why don't you sit next to me during the flight and we can share information. I mean, as the lead investigator, I need to make sure that the rest of my team has all the pertinent data to be able to conduct the best investigation possible." As if an afterthought, he turned towards Harm and said, "Oh and Commander, I would like you to sit close by, so you can join in the discussion."

Mac smiled at Stallworth and shot a glance to Harm, saying, "Sean, I think that's a good idea. Don't you think so Harm?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at both Stallworth's presumption and pomposity, and at Mac's obvious submission to his charms, Harm responded, with thinly disguised sarcasm. "That is quite gracious of you Colonel. Of course, I would love to participate in the investigation. I am sure I can be of great use to your team."

Stallworth nodded absently to him. "Of course Commander, I am sure you will do fine."

Seeing Harm about to respond with a scathing remark, Mac interrupted, "Well now that the seating arrangements are settled, we probably should board. This investigation isn't going to get better with time and the Air Force gets cranky when they are late."

Smiling his most disarming smile, Sean proclaimed his consent. "You are quite correct. Shall we then?"

"We'll be right behind you Sean," Mac said, as she picked up here sea bag and walked over to Harm. Her partner was visibly perturbed by the Army's hotshot lawyer. She wanted to keep him calm or this was going to be a really rough trip and an even worse investigation. As he himself had pointed out earlier, it wasn't going to do to not work together with the Army on this investigation. It was already a potential powder keg and was too important to be derailed by bruised egos and one-ups-manship.

"You want to tell me what that was all about Mac?" Harm whispered harshly. "You were letting yourself get snowed by his silky talk and slick handling."

"Take it easy Flyboy," she responded with a hint of amusement. She liked it when he got a little jealous. "I know he's trying to split us up and sweet talk me onto his side. And yes, I am fairly certain he is hitting on me. But honestly, he's not that bad, just ambitious and maybe a little full of himself. However, he is very bright, quite engaging, and, in his own way, kinda cute."

At that Harm _did_ roll his eyes. "It never changes Mac." At her confused expression, he picked up his sea bag, and turned back towards her, replying, "The men you pick."

And with that, he headed off towards the door to the flight line, leaving a sputtering Mac scrambling to catch up with him. _Yeah,_ he thought to himself._ This is really going to be a long flight._

_A/N:_ _All reviews are appreciated. Sorry it took so long to post. _


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review my story so far. I hope that I am staying pretty consistent with what you have come to expect from this fic. Sorry it took me so long to post my next chapter. Between Thanksgiving, my birthday and getting sick, I haven't had a lot of time to write. Plus, this chapter was going to have a lot of weight to it, and I didn't want to just rush through it. It's a longer chapter and its focus is back on a lot of my original characters, so I hope that everyone enjoys it_.

Chapter 4

_Battalion Headquarters in Northern Iraq two days after the bombing . . ._

2nd Lt. Tom Daniels was waiting with Joe Swenson and Captain Cunningham outside their battalion commander's tent. The brigade commander was inside, along with the Special Forces team leader, and their respective senior NCO counterparts. There were a lot of raised voices and what sounded like things getting kicked or thrown. Tom tried not to hear what was being said and concentrated on making himself as comfortable as possible. However, his uniform collar was irritating the wound in his neck. Every time he shifted, his collar was rubbing sand and dust into the already sore and swollen area. He was in misery.

Cpt. Cunningham, his company commander, wasn't in the mood to talk to either of his lieutenants. That alone was highly unusual, as he was well known for his efforts to mentor his subordinates. There was a hollow look in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but with half a dozen of his men dead at the hands of a sister service, it was nearly impossible to keep the strain off his face. Cunningham was sick to his stomach because of the entire situation. The faces of the dead and the injured popped into his mind whenever he closed his eyes, making rest all but impossible. And to make matters worse, he got the sinking feeling that his fate was being decided in the battalion commander's tent at that very moment.

Marcus Cunningham was not normally one given to self-pity and dwelling on things he couldn't change, but this was different. This literally was life and death, the death of men he had been charged with leading in combat. His feelings since the incident had rotated back and forth between morose and raging mad. He had ensured that his men had followed their orders to the letter and they had done their level best to carry-out a very sensitive mission on extremely short notice. How could something so awful have happened to such an outstanding group of Soldiers? Marcus didn't have any answers for that, and it bitterly enraged him.

"Sir, what do you think they are arguing about?" asked a still relatively shell-shocked Joe Swenson. He'd been pretty rattled since the incident, since it had been his platoon that had taken the brunt of the blast. He lost nearly the entire fire team he had sent on recon to find the Special Forces team. Cunningham could hardly blame him. No one was expecting incoming fire to be in the form of 500-pound bombs from friendly aircraft.

Fighting back the urge to snap at or scold his young officer for asking the most blatantly obvious question, Cunningham took a deep breath and responded. "I would think they are arguing over whose fault the incident is, Joe."

Feeling sheepish at how oblivious he'd been, Joe stammered, "Uh right, sorry sir. Pretty stupid question."

"It's alright Joe."

Looking a little relieved, Joe said, "Thank you sir. I guess it is rather obvious when you look at it."

Having pushed aside his gloom and anger for the moment, Marcus thought about the situation again. Maybe it wasn't quite as obvious to his lieutenants as it was to him, considering they both had spent time in the aid station being treated for wounds while he was being grilled by the battalion leadership. There were a few points from that discussion that he realized he hadn't shared with his leaders yet.

"I wouldn't go that far, Joe. During my debriefing with the boss, he relayed some more information about Chupacabra that wasn't in our original briefing. It came down from Brigade not long after our return from the mission."

This definitely caught both of his lieutenants' attention. However, only Joe, the ever inquisitive future intel officer looked at him. Tom, on the other hand, continued to look at his mission notes, but cocked his head towards the conversation, particularly when Joe asked, "What do you mean sir?"

"Well, the brigade leadership felt like we didn't get all the pertinent data necessary to conduct a successful link-up and extraction. Brigade S-2 felt that the SF leadership was withholding information regarding the tactical situation they were in and their ability to call in air support. Plus, it appears that most of the SF guys were using locals to help them infiltrate the "Soul Catcher's" camp, not Kurdish rebels as was originally reported. I know the Brigade Commander and LTC Stepanek don't buy their story of our Soldiers acting aggressively during the op, and from the sound of the battle going on inside the boss's tent, it appears they just told him that. And I am pretty the SF commander just told them that _we_ fucked up the link-up because his men claim we were acting like enemy forces."

Before Joe could respond, Tom snapped his head towards his commanding officer with a look that was half-incredulous and half-outright rage. "Sir, you have got to be kidding me? That is such a crock of bullshit. We did no such thing out there! We followed the mission plan to the letter and performed out duties like we were trained. They are just trying to save their own asses!"

"Tom, cool your jets," snapped Cunningham. "You also better watch your tone regarding the SF leadership. Do not forget that they are your superiors. Especially when we go in to see the Commander." He liked Tom Daniels a lot, but when he got like this, he was worried that his emotions and his mouth might interfere with his decision making military bearing. The fiery New Englander needed to learn to keep his emotions under tighter control, particularly in high stress situations like the one they were in. It wouldn't do for the men to see any of their leaders lose control right now, not with morale and unit cohesion hanging in the balance.

After the sharp rebuke from his company commander, Tom snapped himself back into silence. He fought to reign in his emotions and right himself. "I'm sorry sir," he began after a long moment. "I overstepped my bounds, and there is no excuse for my lack of discipline."

Marcus sighed as he looked at his contrite young officer. Tom looked thoroughly chastised, which was good because that's what he had intended. However, he didn't want to crush the kid's spirit, which was normally indomitable. Tom's sense of duty to his country and his calling, as well as his dedication and loyalty to his unit and his troops made him one of the most promising young lieutenants Cunningham had ever seen. As long as he didn't let his emotions override his good judgment.

Tom may have put his foot in his mouth when he popped off about the Special Forces leadership, but it didn't mean that he had been wrong. This already smacked of a cover-up to Cunningham. He turned to face both of his subordinates, but addressed his remarks mainly to Tom. "It's ok Tom, I know we're all exhausted, angry and edgy. Right now there are a lot of questions about what happened and that not knowing is putting enormous strain on all of us. It is only natural to want to get mad and find someone to blame. But we are officers in the U.S. Army and we can't fly off the handle like that. You both need to remain in control, if not for yourselves, then definitely for your troops."

As both his subordinates looked at him, Marcus hoped he was getting through to them. He could only hope that he was. Joe wanted to blame himself for the loss of his men, and so did Tom, but Tom also wanted to find out who called in an airstrike on his platoon. Marcus shared those same feelings, but he had to remain strong for his Soldiers.

"Joe, Tom," he continued. "How much sleep have you been able to get since the incident?"

Joe Swenson stared at him kind of blankly. Then he blinked, thought for a minute and responded, "Sleep sir? Wow, I really don't think I've gotten more than a couple hours of real sleep since we got back from the mission."

Tom didn't answer Cunningham's question, which left the door open for him to respond to Joe. "Look, I know it's tough, particularly with our extremely temporary and makeshift basecamp, but you need to try to get some sleep. I, and more importantly, your troops, need you to be as well rested as possible. We are still at war and out in enemy territory. You need to be at your best or at least as close to it as you can get. Look, I know the two of you are nursing injuries, so that may make it problematic to get comfortable when you try to sleep, but do what you can. You tracking?"

"Roger sir," Joe replied hollowly.

Again, Tom didn't answer. Marcus Cunningham wasn't used to his best platoon leader being so silent or so insubordinate. He repeated himself, this time more loudly and forcefully. "I said, are you tracking, Tom?"

Then Tom turned to look at his company commander. The two officers locked gazes for a moment before Tom said, "Sorry, sir. Sleep and I just don't seem to be on the same page since we got back. Must be my neck wound. The sand keeps getting in it and makes it impossible to get comfortable." Then the young officer's voice trailed off. He diverted his gaze from his commander's and looked back at his note book.

"I understand. I know that it's painful and you have a lot of things on your mind, but you need to at least take some time to rest, even if you can't actually sleep. Or at least do something to take your mind off it for a bit." Cunningham gave him a small, wry grin. He was forcing it to try and relieve some of the tension between them. It almost worked.

Tom nodded absently and turned to look at his commander. Marcus saw in Tom's eyes storm of pain and anger. The same emotions that he himself was fighting to keep buried. When Tom spoke again, it was a low, gravelly whisper. And it shook Cunningham to his core.

"I promise I'll try sir, but I'm not sure anything can stop the scenes from replaying in my head every time I close my eyes. I can still see the lifeless eyes staring at me."

_Inside Lt. Col. Stepanek's command tent . . _.

"Look sir, we can argue about this all day, but when it comes down to it, your men called in an airstrike on one of my companies!" Lt. Col. Victor Stepanek stated through tightly clenched teeth. "A company, I may add, that was detailed to support and extract your team at _your_ request. Sir!"

Colonel Jackson St. Claire, the commanding officer of all Special Forces teams in northern Iraq, glared hard at Stepanek. He didn't like the tone the battalion commander was using, nor did he appreciate his orders being questioned by a non-Special Forces subordinate. St. Claire hardened his gaze as he stepped closer to Stepanek, coming within about a foot of the airborne officer. "I don't appreciate your accusations or your tone, Colonel! You are just asking for charges of insubordination."

The brigade commander, Colonel Alexander Markowitz, stepped in between the two. Technically he was the senior officer on the ground, having more command authority, troops and time in grade on St. Claire. He didn't want this to escalate further, mostly because he didn't want his best battalion brought up on charges of disrespecting superior officer. Even one as infuriating and bullheaded as Jackson St. Claire, who clearly needed to be brought down a peg.

"All right you two, that's enough!" he snapped, as he pushed them both back to a more reasonable distance from each other. "Lock it up, Col. Stepanek, time now! This is not the type of behavior I will accept from one of my battalion commanders. Is that clear?"

Stepanek snapped to attention and stared straight ahead. "Yes sir. Won't let it happen again."

Markowitz nodded grimly. Seeing the smug look on St. Claire's face only made Markowitz want to slap it right off, but that was only going to be counterproductive. However, he wasn't going to let the son of a bitch off easily either. As the senior officer on the ground, he was going to have order and he wasn't going to have some cowboy Green Beret disrespecting his men either.

Rounding on the wiry SF officer, Markowitz drew himself up to his full height of 6'2" and glared down at the slightly shorter St. Claire. "And as for you, Col. St. Claire, do not forget just where the hell you are! You are in the middle of one of _my_ battalion's, surrounded by nearly 700 Soldiers who just lost a dozen friends in a "blue-on-blue" incident. Tensions are running pretty damned high and we all want answers. And quite frankly, you are holding back on a lot of those answers and that is completely unacceptable."

"Now wait just a damned minute . . ." St. Claire began, but Markowitz cut him off. He was in no mood for the Green Beret's obfuscation.

"I was not finished, Col. St. Claire!" Markowitz bellowed. "The fact is, there was a serious gap in the information your headquarters provided my intelligence section. That is beyond acceptable risk in my book. And I will not let you dishonor the memory of the fallen by trying to blast a smokescreen in our faces. I don't care what your orders were, if I find out you put the lives of my Soldiers at risk unnecessarily, I can promise you that I will file charges with my superiors and yours!"

St. Claire was visibly shaking with rage. His sergeant major stepped up behind him, as both support for his commander and as intimidation against the airborne leaders. Despite the sergeant major's scars, bulk and height, it didn't work. Markowitz, Stepanek and their subordinates were just as grim faced and steely-eyed. The situation had definitely become a powder keg and there was an intense stand-off between both sides. However, as Markowitz and his group of senior officers and NCOs greatly outnumbered the Special Forces leaders. St. Claire, to his credit, recognized that the tide was against him at the moment and decided to change tactics.

"If," he began slowly, still fighting to contain his outrage. "And I do mean, _if_, my Soldiers were responsible for the mishap, then I will be the first to order charges. Can you say the same if your men were found to be the ones in error?"

The challenge in his voice did not escape anyone in the tent. There was a brief, tense moment as everyone waited for Markowitzto respond. Markowitz took his time, as he was not going to let St. Claire goad him into saying something foolish that could come back to haunt him later. "I have always and will always hold my Soldiers to the highest standards of the Army Values and the Uniformed Code of Military Justice. No matter what the situation."

The two full birds stared at each other for several long moments. Their respective subordinates did likewise, no one saying anything. Then, sensing that this was a good time to make his case, the brigade legal officer, Major Malcolm Bennett, spoke up. "Gentlemen, if I may?"

St. Claire fixed his hawk-like gaze upon the airborne lawyer. "And who the hell are you?"

Markowitz snapped his head towards St. Claire and responded tersely, "This, Colonel, is my brigade Staff Judge Advocate, Maj. Bennett." Looking back towards his legal officer, Markowitz stated calmly. "Go ahead Malcolm."

Nodding appreciatively at his commander, Bennett began, "We need to be cognizant of the third major piece of this puzzle." At the confused looks by several in the tent, he paused briefly to ensure that his argument was both clear and concise. "We can't dismiss the chance that the error came not from forces on the ground, but from the supporting aircraft."

St. Claire looked at the lawyer and smiled a mirthless smile. "Well Colonel, I guess not all of your officers have made up their mind as to the guilt of my men."

The brigade commander scoffed at the Green Beret's sarcasm. "Nothing has been decided either way Colonel. However, what I object to is your presumption from the beginning that our extraction team was solely at fault for this tragedy." Turning towards his SJA, he said, "I understand your point all too well Malcolm. And I will not discount any avenue you wish to pursue, no matter which way the evidence points."

"Thank you sir," replied Bennett. "I've only really been able to start my full investigation into the incident today, due to the time needed to recover evidence from hostile territory and waiting on men to be released from medical care for statements. This will go a lot faster when the joint-service investigation team arrives from DC in the next day or so."

Neither full bird wanted to deal with a bunch of rear echelon pencil-pushers coming in to investigate incident. Particularly since it was discovered that most of the incoming team was from the Navy. However, they all breathed just a little bit easier when it was discovered that the Army had lead in the investigation. And when it was discovered that the Army's hotshot legal ace, Lt. Col. Sean Stallworth, was the man chosen to lead the investigation, Markowitz felt like justice would truly be served. While he had faith in Maj. Bennett, Stallworth had the kind of political muscle and acumen to be able to tip-toe very carefully through the minefield that surrounded the accidental bombing.

"Malcolm, do you know anything about the officers that the Navy is sending?"

Bennett sighed. He had gotten word through his counterpart at higher headquarters about the particulars of the investigation team, even some information on the two Navy lawyers. What he found out was not going to make things any smoother. In fact, it may just lead to an all-out turf war between the services. "Sir, looks like the Navy is sending its own version of Lt. Col. Stallworth, times two. Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., the Navy JAG's golden boy, and Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, the Marine Corps poster girl. Both are highly decorated as investigators, litigators and, ironically, combat officers. And in reference to that last piece, I have no idea. It looks like the Navy is definitely not content to let us handle this on our own."

Grimacing intensely with his eyes screwed shut; St. Claire was at the end of his rope with this situation. "Tell me you aren't afraid of this Navy-Marine Corps dream team, Major."

Malcolm Bennett was taken aback. Trying to maintain his professional decorum, he responded, "Not at all sir, just relaying the fact that the Navy is just as concerned about the fallout from this tragedy as we are. And I for one welcome them. We need to examine this from all angles, no matter where it may lead us or who it may implicate."

Turning towards Markowitz, St. Claire said, "Straight out of the mouth of your own SJA. Would you be willing to put your men up against the judgment of a Navy court, Markowitz? I sure as hell wouldn't."

Straightening his dust-covered uniform, Colonel Alexander Markowitz, commanding officer of an Army airborne brigade looked at the assembled group of officers and senior non-commissioned officers. "This command is not above the UCJM, no matter what branch of the armed forces." And staring straight at St. Claire, he continued, "And neither is yours."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Disclaimer: many of the Army units I mentioned are real and participated in the initial invasion of Iraq, just as they have in this story. However, the personnel mentioned that served in these units are fictional. For the sake of the story, I have invented my own characters, and they are used in place of the real leaders of the 173__rd__ Airborne. I hope this decision will not offend any of my airborne brethren or fellow military veterans. Thank you all for your support and reviews. Sorry it's taking me so long to update, this time of year is really busy. This chapter is a long one, but I had to make sure the arrival of the JAG team to Iraq wasn't just a throw-in. Please enjoy._

Chapter 5

Harm slowly rolled his head from side to side trying to work out the kinks. All the hours of flying in several different types of aircraft with as many types of seating configurations had made the muscles in his neck a bunch of knots. He was exhausted and extraordinarily uncomfortable. Looking over at his travelling companions, he could see that Mac and Stallworth were likewise inconvenienced. _Well_, he thought_. At least we will all be irritable together._

They flown by various types of airplanes to Kuwait where they spent time interviewing the Marine pilots who had flown the air support mission. The three lawyers interviewed them, taking their statements, talking to their superiors and looking at the aircraft in question. Both Marine pilots swore that they received the air support request from the Special Forces team on the ground and used the coordinates that they were sent. Stallworth went over the coordinates that the Marines gave him and made both pilots repeat them several times to be sure that there were no inconsistencies. His scrutiny began to make the pilots a little nervous; as they began to think that they were going to be the focus of the investigation.

Mac tried to offset this by asking if they had received any other requests for support that night and whether they had received any incoming enemy fire at any point during the mission. The response to both questions was no. Just when the pilots felt that they were going to be the sacrificial lambs, Harm started asking them questions about their equipment and the weather conditions. He tried to put them at ease, asking if there had been any issues with the radio transmissions from the SF team and if there had been any communication with the other units on the ground. He asked for the maintenance report on both planes from after the mission and talked to the pilots' chain of command, getting a feel for both of them as people and officers. Harm's experience as a pilot had proven to be quite an asset, even impressing Stallworth, despite the latter's attempt to cover it with nonchalance.

In agreement with the pilots' chain of command, the legal team ordered the Marines' grounding until the investigation was complete. Col. Stallworth had wanted to make an initial report to their superiors after talking to the Marine pilots. However, both Harm and Mac had encouraged him to wait until they had a chance to talk to the Soldiers on the ground before making any communications to higher other than a progress report on their travel. Stallworth acquiesced once he got them to agree that they needed to let their superiors know that they had at least gotten the investigation started by interviewing the F-18 pilots. Once they reported all of that back to their superiors in DC, they prepared for the next leg of their journey.

The flight they were currently on was a CH-47 Chinook helicopter. They had boarded the big transport helicopter in Kuwait and headed for Iraq less than twenty hours after they had arrived to interview the Marine aviation unit. The helicopter stopped to refuel at a one of the 3rd Infantry Division's forward headquarters. While the helicopter was refueling, the three managed to grab a quick bite to eat and go over the notes of the case so far. Once refueled, their flight continued northwest until they reached a secured airfield near the headquarters of the 173rd Airborne Brigade.

Upon their arrival at the airfield, they were greeted by a platoon from the 173rd detailed to escort them the short drive to the Brigade Headquarters. Harm, Mac and Sean policed up their gear and exited the back ramp of the Chinook and were met by the young platoon leader in charge of their escort. He directed them to a line of Humvees located about 100 meters from the landing zone. Due to their rank and the threat of enemy ambush between the airfield and the Brigade's field headquarters, the three senior officers were placed in different vehicles.

_Hmmph_, Harm chuckled to himself. _Looks like I won't have to watch Stallworth moon over Mac for at least the next half hour. _

Despite the threat of enemy activity in the area along their intended route, the convoy reached the 173rd's headquarters without incident. That was just fine by Harm, since the trip in the Humvee was tough enough on his aching back and joints. Choking down a pound of dust and cooking in the Iraqi heat didn't make him feel any better either. Harmon Rabb was definitely not enjoying this trip so far at all.

When they finally reached their intended destination, Harm, Mac and Sean Stallworth were pretty sick of travelling. As soon as the convoy stopped, they all but jumped out of their respectively vehicles. The Soldiers in the convoy struggled to hide their smirks and chuckles. Fortunately for them, the three senior officers were not paying attention to them at that moment. The three lawyers, despite all of their collective years of service and experiences were definitely not at home among the rough and ready Army airborne.

An officer in desert camouflage and wearing a floppy boonie cap was standing out front of a large tent waiting patiently for them to collect themselves. The patrol leader walked over to the officer, saluted, and gave him a short report on the mission. When that was finished, the officer walked over to the three lawyers and saluted.

"Commander, Colonels, welcome to the 173rd Airborne Brigade. I'm the brigade staff judge advocate, Major Malcolm Bennett. I've done the preliminary investigation and have the latest report ready for your collective inspection. However, before you get to work, the brigade commander would like to see you in his tent."

Drawing himself up to his full height and striding forward with a purpose, Sean Stallworth spoke before either Harm or Mac could. "Thank you Major. Could you please show me and my team to the commander's tent?"

Again Harm fought against rolling his eyes. During the flights to Kuwait, Stallworth proved a good bit of his legal acumen as they went over the incident reports and formulated a preliminary investigative plan. However, when he talked to people, particularly subordinates, Stallworth really could be pompous and self-important. And while he hadn't seen it yet, Harm could almost guarantee that Stallworth would try to ingratiate himself to senior leaders and pass himself off unquestioned leader of the investigative team. The thought made Harm's skin crawl just thinking about it.

Mac watched Harm react to Sean's interaction with Maj. Bennett. She saw him try to hide a disdainful look as the senior Army litigator postulated for the brigade's legal officer. This was not unusual of Harm to feel threatened by some hot shot who not only got into a measuring contest with him but who also showed a lot of attention to her. Sometimes, she kind of found his hidden jealous streak endearing, since it showed that he still had those feelings for her, even if they were buried. Other times, it bothered her, because he had refused several times in the past to act upon those feelings. Right now, however, she was partly amused at his reaction but partly annoyed, as things had been strained between them lately.

She sighed, because she knew this investigation was going to be probably as personally stressful as it would be professionally. The case was going to be hard enough without having to handle the huge dueling egos of Harmon Rabb and Sean Stallworth. Hopefully she could find a middle ground for them to meet on, so they could actually get down to uncovering the truth of the matter. Harm had preached as much as they were leaving JAG, but that was before he found out that the very man he was looking forward to working with was a pompous, glad-handing bureaucrat.

Or at least that's what he thought. Mac, however, wasn't so sure. She found him to be quite intelligent and rather charming. Of course, she could tell that he had his sights set on something higher than just being a great military lawyer. All of his politicking and charm, plus his posturing and superior attitude just proved to Mac that he was looking to make a career in Washington as a politician. There was something to be said about ambition, and Sean Stallworth was nothing if not ambitious. However, there had to be more to him than just ambition and politics. For their sakes, and those of the personnel involved in the incident, Mac certainly hoped so.

"Colonel, Commander," Stallworth announced, once he was done grilling Maj. Bennett. "We better go report in to the brigade commander. You know how full birds hate to be kept waiting."

Exchanging a look that said, _This is going to be interesting_, Harm and Mac grabbed their gear and followed the two Army lawyers towards a large tent with several armed Soldiers standing outside it. As they approached, Harm could hear raised voices from the tent's interior. The Soldiers standing guard were obviously trying hard not to overhear whatever was being argued inside. At the approach of the four officers, they snapped to attention and eyed the newcomers closely.

Maj. Bennett identified himself and his party to the guards and they let all four enter the tent. Inside, Harm and Mac saw a small cluster of officers and senior NCO's having a heated discussion. Two full bird colonels were square in the middle of it, with a lieutenant colonel joining in as well. Many of the rest of the people in the room just stood or sat glaring at each other. The conversation stopped when the four newcomers entered the tent.

"Sir," Maj. Bennett said turning to the tall colonel on the right side of the tent. "The investigative team from DC has arrived. May I present Lt. Col. Sean Stallworth, from our own JAG headquarters and Cmdr. Harmon Rabb and Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, from the Naval JAG headquarters."

Col. Markowitz turned away from him sparring partner and walked over to the four lawyers. "Thank you Malcolm. I'm Col. Alexander Markowitz, welcome to my headquarters."

Markowitz began to introduce the assembled people in the tent, starting with is staff. He then introduced the brigade's command team before finally getting to the source of the tension in the tent. "This is Lt. Col. Victor Stepanek, commander of the "Archangels," the battalion that was involved in the incident. With him is Command Sergeant Major Terrence Keller."

The three JAG officers took mental note of the command team from the airborne battalion who had suffered all the casualties from the air support. They would most likely be the first people the team would interview once they had gone over everything that Major Bennett had done up to this point. Stepanek realized he was under their watchful gaze and fired a hard look back at them. He looked tired and angry, so Harm figured that he would be a pretty hard case to deal with. However, this wouldn't be the first time that he had come across a hardass Army officer during the course of his investigations, so he wasn't all that concerned. At least, not until Col. Markowitz made his final introduction.

"And finally, people," Markowitz continued, although with just the slightest hint of disdain in his voice. "This is Col. Jackson St. Claire, the commander of all Special Forces teams in Northern Iraq. It was one of his teams that Col. Stepanek's men were trying to extract when the incident occurred."

Mac turned to acknowledge the introduction to Col. St. Claire when she received an icy glare from the stone-faced Green Beret. His eyes were cold and nearly unreadable. His jaw was set so hard and tight that she wondered if he was about to crack some teeth. The colonel was definitely not happy to be there, and seemed to radiate the feeling that this was all beneath him. He was definitely going to be trouble when they had to interview him. Just as she was wondering if all the Army personnel on the ground were going to possibly stonewall their investigation, she caught a look that Stepanek had thrown St. Claire. The Green Beret hadn't seen it, but Mac caught it just the same. It was a look of pure resentment, mistrust and disgust. There was definitely more than just two sides to this story.

"Now that all the introductions have been made, we can get down to business." Markowitz continued. "I understand that you have already interviewed the F-18 pilots?"

"Yes sir," Stallworth replied.

"Good. Why don't you start by filling us in on that piece of the puzzle."

Before either Harm or Sean could respond, Mac spoke up. "Sir, with all due respect, we can't really go over our interviews with the Marine aviation unit with you. It is an ongoing investigation and you aren't the convening authority. All we can say at the moment is that we need to continue with our mission and that we do not have enough information to make an sort recommendations yet."

Markowitz narrowed his eyes as he looked at Mac, clearly not pleased with her answer. To him, it seemed slightly insubordinate, and was just about to say something of the kind when Maj. Bennett interrupted his thoughts. "Sir, Col. Mackenzie is correct. The investigation has just begun and since it was ordered by Gen. Franks himself, we don't want to do anything out of sorts here. I know you want to learn what happened to our men, and that is just what these officers are here to do. We don't need anyone mistaking your legitimate desire to find out the truth to be confused with undue command influence, right sir?"

Markowitz looked at his SJA and nodded with a half-smile. Malcolm was a great asset to his brigade staff. He definitely was doing his best to keep his commander well informed on all legal matters and making sure that Markowitz did not do anything that violated rules of engagement and regulations. He felt better knowing that while Malcolm was not leading the investigation, he was most certainly going to be a very important part of the team.

"Ah, yes, that makes sense," Markowitz stated after a minute. "Thank you Col. Mackenzie for your candor and dedication." Turning his head slightly and whispering, "Good catch Malcolm, thank you."

"Sir," Stallworth jumped in, deciding this was a good moment to reassert himself as the lead investigator. "If I may, I would like to recommend that my colleagues and I get a chance to sit down with Major Bennett and go over everything he has on incident from your end. We will be able to add what we learned at the Marine base in Kuwait to what he has been able to learn here while we've been in transit."

Turning back towards the three stateside visitors, Markowitz looked at Stallworth. "That sounds like an excellent idea Colonel. My staff will be at your service to provide any assistance they can. When you are done exchanging information with Maj. Bennett, come find me and we can get my interview out of the way first. I want to get this incident cleared up, but I do have a combat brigade to run."

All four military lawyers nodded at him in acknowledgement. "Excellent. Col. Stepanek's battalion is on the east side of the encampment and Col. St. Claire's team is on the west side. You won't have to travel out through enemy territory to conduct any interviews. Please understand that conditions here are limited and our Soldiers are constantly on the move. I know we all want justice to be served, but we do need your help to get this case wrapped up as expeditiously and as thoroughly as possible. And after all, we still have a war to fight."

Harm, Mac and Sean all stated their acknowledgment of Markowitz's concerns. He looked at them with an appraising look. They all had reputations as some of the best legal minds in the military, which made him feel better. He just hoped that they would be able to get to the bottom of this horrible incident quickly. And, maybe, just maybe, they would be able to uncover whatever it was that St. Claire was hiding from him and his men.

As soon as they were dismissed, the legal team made their way to an adjacent tent, where Bennett had set up a small work area for them. All the files the brigade legal officer had compiled during his initial investigation were waiting for them on a small folding desk, next to a table that had a few chairs around it. Harm, Mac and Stallworth stripped off their body armor and grabbed a seat around the table. Bennett took the stack of folders off the desk and began to hand them out. Once that was complete, Bennett had one of his legal assistants go police up something to eat for the three newcomers.

Looking up from a stack of sworn statements, Harm said, "Maj. Bennett, excellent job handling your brigade commander in there. You probably kept him from saying something he shouldn't have."

Bennett looked over at the tall naval officer and frowned. "I did not _handle_ Col. Markowitz, sir. I was doing my job, providing him with counsel on all matters of legality. He is an outstanding brigade commander and only wants to know what happened to his men. I can't blame him for that. I just don't want him to cross into any gray areas."

Harm looked at the younger man. He was a pretty sharp legal mind and one who was both loyal to his command and to his duties. The former aviator was beginning to like the airborne JAG. "You're right, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I meant to say you handled the situation well in there. We are all on the same side here, trying to find the truth."

The Navy lawyer's response seemed to satisfy Bennett, particularly because of its sincerity. "Exactly right sir." Looking around the table at the three senior legal officers, Malcolm decided that they should jump right into the investigation. "Well, gentlemen, ma'am, these files are everything my staff and I have been able to collect about the incident since it happened. Where would you like to start?"

Looking around at her colleagues, Mac figured she should state the obvious. "Well, how about we start from the beginning?" When there were no objections, the three senior JAGs took out their notebooks and began to listen as Malcolm Bennett started explaining the operations plan that led to the mission.

_Later, on the east side of the encampment . . ._

Lt. Col. Stepanek finished briefing his company leadership on arrival of the stateside legal investigative team. He told his subordinates, particularly those from A Company, to make themselves available to the investigators. Their missions still came first, but at the earliest convenience, all personnel needed to be ready to be interviewed. Stepanek also made it clear that under no circumstances would anyone in the battalion deliberately mislead or misinform the investigators on anything, even to protect a fellow "Archangel." To do so, he said, would dishonor the memory of those who were killed and wounded in the incident.

He knew that his men were exhausted and the accidental bombing had further frayed many already strained nerves of a lot of his people. Even the companies that had not been directly involved in the bombing had been affected by it. With so much of Alpha Company out of action due to casualties and combat fatigue, the rest of the battalion had been forced to pick up the slack, further straining men already nearing their limits. None of the other companies complained, however, because they were hardened professionals who understood that their sister company had been brutalized in a tragic accident. It both heartened and saddened him to see just had dedicated these men were to each other, despite their own struggles.

When the briefing was over, Marcus Cunningham left Col. Stepanek's tent and headed back to his own headquarters. He was dog-tired and not really looking forward to sitting down for any interviews regarding the incident. In the past four days, he had rehashed the incident over and over in his mind. He had talked to every Soldier in his company who had been on the scene and read the sworn statements of every eye witness. With the help of his subordinates, he wrote his company's official After Action Report (AAR) on the bombing and turned it in to the battalion commander. He had even been interviewed by the brigade legal officer and talked to the brigade commander.

In short, Marcus was tired of talking about it. He was trying to move himself and his men past the event, to the best of his ability. They were still at war and still in the middle of enemy territory. His company needed to be ready to go and to fight at a moment's notice. He and his first sergeant were doing everything they could to get the men back on track, but it was difficult. The losses they took essentially made the company combat ineffective, so they had been reduced to protecting the base camp while their walking wounded healed up enough to return to duty. Even though he wanted answers to the incident and was anxious to have his men cleared of any wrong-doing, he was not looking forward to reopening the fresh wounds that were trying to heal. Especially since he still needed to finish the letters to the families of his five deceased Soldiers.

When Cunningham arrived at his headquarters tent, he saw his assembled company leadership waiting for him. He took a mental roll call to make sure they were all present: first sergeant, executive officer, fire support officer, three platoon leaders and their respective platoon sergeants. In addition to those officers and NCOs, he saw his supply, communications and medical NCOs were also in attendance. _Good_, he thought. _No is missing, so I don't have to chew some one's ass out or repeat myself._

"Alright, I will make this quick," he began in a command voice that struggled to hide the fatigue. "The BC had just returned from a meeting with the brigade commander. The stateside legal eagles have arrived and have hunkered down with the brigade SJA to compare notes. We fully expect them to come through here and begin interviews tomorrow. I want full cooperation from everyone in the company, particularly First and Second Platoons.

"The boss wanted me to reiterate to all of you that under no circumstance will any of you or your Soldiers withhold information or deliberately lie to these investigators, not even to protect fellow "Annihilators." Not only are they supposedly among the best lawyers in the U.S. military and will most likely see through deception, do to so will dishonor the memory of our fallen brothers, and _that_ I will _not _ tolerate. Is that clear?"

A loud and unanimous, "Clear sir!" rang out from the collective group of leaders.

Satisfied that he had made his point, Cunningham began to wrap up his brief. "Alright, Maj. Bennett, the brigade SJA, will bring around these senior attorneys tomorrow morning, after morning chow. There will be three field grade officers accompanying the brigade SJA, one Army, one Marine and one Navy. You will give them all the highest level of cooperation and respect. Answer all questions honestly, try not to speculate and make sure your troops do the same. I guess they've already talked to the pilots and are trying to piece together what happened on the ground before they make their recommendations. I know you all did your best out there and followed your orders exactly. The boss and I have your backs. Don't be afraid to tell the truth. Anyhow, that's all I have for you. Return to your duties. Dismissed."

As the group began to break up and return to their tasks or Soldiers, Tom Daniels walked over to his company commander with a curious look on his face. "Sir, just out of curiosity, what are the names of the investigators?"

Marcus didn't see any harm in telling his subordinate the names of the investigators. Hell, it might make it easier for him to ensure cooperation by making sure his men are fully aware of name and rank of the investigators. "Army headquarters sent its superstar lawyer, Lt. Col. Sean Stallworth. Apparently the Marines and Navy did too. The jarheads sent a Lt. Col. Mackenzie, and the boss said she is a real non-nonsense type. Apparently she's also easy on the eyes, so make sure your men see only her rank and position. Clear?"

Tom nodded. An attractive female being in close quarters with his platoon at this point in the tour could cause problems. The fact that she was a senior officer and a JAG made it imperative that his men remain respectful at all times. "Roger sir, they will be on their best behavior."

Marcus shook his head. "No Tom, I want them better than their best behavior. We don't need any disrespect to a senior officer or sexual harassment bullshit, especially when we are trying to clear our names."

"Tracking sir. My platoon sergeant and I will make sure the boys are straight." When Cunningham nodded in satisfaction at the response, Tom continued. "And who did the squids send? Some hotshot who made a name busting drunken sailors in port bar brawls?"

Cunningham definitely understood the Army-Navy rivalry in Tom's statement. Particularly since he'd seen a few brawls between the services in bars over the years. "I don't think so. This guy had aviator's wings on his DCUs. His name is Commander Rabb, I think."

That name stopped Tom is his tracks. "Did you say Rabb sir? As in Harmon Rabb, Jr.?"

"Yes, I think that was the name the boss gave out. Why, do you know him?"

Tom blinked a couple times as he registered the information thrown out. Then he snapped his head up and met his commander's gaze. "No, sir, I don't know him. However, I do know _of_ him. Remember how I told you about my cousin, the Ranger Battalion commander?"

"Yes, Lt. Col. Daniel O'Brien. I know the name, he's quite the legend in the SOF community."

Tom sighed, his much older second cousin was a decorated war hero and a bit of a superstar in the special ops community. He was also one of the biggest influences in Tom's decision to join the Army. "Well sir, Harmon Rabb and Danny O. are friends, dating back to some get together they had just prior to Desert Storm. Anyhow, Cmdr. Rabb is actually the one who introduced my cousin to his now ex-wife. Former Navy Commander Megan Austin. Harmon Rabb is like a combination of Tom Cruise's roles in Top Gun and A Few Good Men. He's the best that Navy JAG has. And he's also a former pilot. With a Marine and a former pilot on this team, we may be screwed."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to put the next chapter up. Work got busy immediately after the holidays and then my family and I got sick, so I haven't been able to concentrate enough on my writing. I hope this chapter continues to keep people interested and entertained. I am merging my original characters were our JAG heroes more. It's definitely been fun! Keep the reviews coming; they have been a great motivator! Special thanks to _byrhthelm, _for all the feedback._

Chapter 6

The revelation by Capt. Cunningham that his cousin's old friend was part of the investigative team left Tom Daniels with a lot of conflicting emotions. He knew that he should try to remain objective, particularly in light of the fact that the Army had lead in the investigation. However, hearing his cousin describe Rabb's career and accomplishments, he wondered if the former naval aviator and his Marine partner would be as inclined to remain objective. The worst thing that could happen for his men would be for them to be caught in the middle of an investigative Army-Navy turf war. One thing his cousin had told him was that a good leader must always do was to take care of the Soldiers he served with. That was what Tom was striving to do. He would continue to fight for his troops as long as he could.

As he sat in the small tent that he shared with Joe Swenson, Tom tried to clear his head. The events of the last week and their immediate aftermath had really taken their toll on him. He was exhausted, sore, angry and troubled. He attempted to concentrate on the proposed squad realignment that his platoon sergeant gave him that reflected the cross-leveling of personnel between squads due to the casualties from the air strike. The platoon was basically combat ineffective due to the number of casualties they had suffered during the two months since they jumped into Iraq. And while many of the wounded were able to return to duty after some recovery time, several of them were operating with diminished capacity, like Tom.

Tom had to put down the alpha roster and shift his position. The wounds on his leg and arm were still sore, but seemed to be healing fine. However, the wound in neck was constantly being rubbed by his uniform collar and irritated by the sand and dust. Taking a field mirror out of his ruck sack, Tom tried to angle it to see the bandage. The gauze and tape were all discolored with dirt, blood and grime, and he realized that he hadn't had the bandage changed since the previous evening.

"Ugh, looks like I better go get this changed before I can get any work done," Tom grumbled to himself. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his rifle and boonie cap and headed out of the tent. As he trudged towards the aid station, he tried to clear his head of his doubts and worries. Gingerly touching the bandage on his neck, he thought that while he was at the aid station, he should check on the wounded from his platoon. It was definitely what he should do as a leader, but it could also continue to color his view of the situation. Justice certainly wouldn't be done if there was irrational bias during the investigation.

So deep was Tom in his own musings that he almost walked right past the aid station. It was fortunately at that moment when a medic, Specialist Hank Daly, walked out of the tent and almost crashed into the platoon leader. The tall, lanky medic halted short his long strides to avoid bowling over the shorter man. The near-collision startled Tom, who stumbled backward as the young Soldier stammered, "Whoa, sorry sir! Are you ok?"

Shaking his head to clear up the fog, Tom turned to the medic and forced a small, tired smile. "Yeah, I'm fine Daly. I guess I was deeper in thought than I realized. Hell, I was on my way here to see you guys and I damned near walked right past it."

The bespectacled Daly looked hard at the young officer. The lieutenant looked pretty beat which wasn't all that strange, since most of Alpha Company hadn't had much rest in the past few days since the airstrike. However, Hank Daly was a fairly perceptive young man and he saw that not only was Lieutenant Daniels tired, but that he also seemed strained. That was also not surprising, since Daniels' platoon suffered some serious casualties that night, including, it would appear, the lieutenant himself.

"Well sir, what can we do for you?" Daly asked. "Here to see your men?"

Tom looked up at Daly and replied, "Yeah I am. But I am also here to get the bandages changed on my wounds. Particularly the one on my neck. Dirt and dust keep getting into the wound and it rubs whenever I move, so it's pretty hard to concentrate or sleep."

Gesturing towards the tent opening, Daly said, "Sir, why don't you come on in and we can get you taken care of."

A tired Tom nodded his head and walked into the tent. Once he was through the tent flaps, a thought occurred to him and he stopped and turned towards Spec. Daly. "Hey, weren't you leaving when showed up? I don't want to keep you from whatever you were doing."

Daly stared at Daniels with a rather sheepish look on his face. A small smirk came over him. "Yeah about that sir, I was heading out to smoke. I know, as a medic, I should know better about how awful it is for you but . . ."

Tom chuckled and nodded his head. "But you needed to take the edge off and get out for a minute. Yeah I got you man. Go ahead and grab a smoke, you've earned it after all the work you put in on my guys, especially Smitty. I will go see one of the other medics."

Daniels' comment stopped whatever tobacco craving Daly had. He took another look at the other man. Hank Daly didn't realize that his work on Sergeant Smith had been noticed, let alone appreciated, by the men in his platoon. They weren't able to save Smitty, so Daly hadn't considered his work to be anything worthy of notice, but the look he was receiving from Tom Daniels changed that perception. "No sir. I'm good. Let me get you all fixed up. Is it just the neck or do the other wounds need looking at too?"

The three senior attorneys had received an in brief of the facts at hand from Maj. Bennett once they settled into the tent. After about an hour briefing, the four collaborated on a strategy and dug into the files. It took them three hours straight of going over sworn statements, after action reports, medical charts and numerous other files to finally make a first pass through all the material. Once that was done, they took about a half hour break to clear their heads. While the three senior lawyers were taking their break, Maj. Bennett went to see if Col. Markowitz was ready for his interview.

After confirming that the brigade commander was ready, Bennett summoned the others and Stallworth began the questioning. Col. Markowitz was extremely forthcoming with his answers, and he didn't even appear to hold anything against Mac after their earlier exchange. His statement seemed to be in line with his official report of the incident, and while he wasn't specific, he seemed to think that there was more to the actual mission than what they received from Col. St. Claire. Harm tried to see if Markowitz could elaborate on that point, but the colonel looked disappointed when he couldn't provide anything further.

Sean Stallworth seemed quite satisfied with the colonel's answers and thanked him for his time. Even Harm and Mac had to agree that the brigade commander was helpful and there was most likely dealing straight with them. Bennett assured them that Markowitz would do nothing less. When they returned, Stallworth suggested they lay out everything they knew. With the information from Markowitz, they went back over the files to see if the colonel's interview helped shed any new light on the information they had at hand. Nothing came to mind immediately, but then something clicked with Harm.

"Mac, can you hand me the file with Second Platoon's sworn statements?" Harm called from his seat at the small camp desk he had been working at for the last hour going over statements and reports.

"Here you go Harm," Mac said as she walked the file he was looking for over to him. "You on to something?"

Harm shrugged and cast his glance around the tent to the two Army attorneys before turning back to Mac. "Well I know that Second Platoon was the one that bore the brunt of the airstrike. They were the designated extraction platoon and were the closest to the Special Forces team when the F-18's arrived on station."

Harm stopped for a minute to make sure everyone was with him. The other three lawyers looked at him, especially Mac, who figured there was a trail to follow.

"We know that it was because of that proximity that the airstrike was called in on their position. That platoon took the heaviest casualties when the Hornets dropped their munitions because there was confusion on the ground as to who was approaching the SF position, right? Well why is that? Weren't they expecting an extraction from that direction?

"These reports are incomplete," he continued, holding up the file with the platoon's sworn statements. At their puzzled looks, he elaborated. "They would almost have to be. Almost all the members of the recon team that Second Platoon sent forward to locate the Green Berets were killed in the incident."

"By the airstrike," Stallworth amended. "Yes, I can see how that could leave some gaps in the statements if the Soldiers who were in the best position to discuss their link-up procedures were all killed."

Harm frowned. There were a few things in Stallworth's statement that troubled him. Gaps in the information they had were making this more problematic. Plus, he really didn't like being corrected, especially by someone who seems to have a hidden agenda. Harm was beginning to suspect that Sean Stallworth may not be as impartial as he made himself out to be. It was apparent that he might still be trying to find a way to pin this on the Marine pilots.

Before Harm could respond to Stallworth's reply, Mac spoke up. "Sean, I think I see where Harm is going with this one. We have very detailed reports from First and Second Platoon, very detailed reports from the Company and Battalion leadership, very detailed reports from Maj. Bennett's investigation, but very short, somewhat vague statements from the Special Forces team. There appears to be a gap in our information on what happened out there."

Looking over at his partner with a small nod of gratitude, Harm continued on his point. "I know that Special Forces missions are generally classified operations, but you would think that they could at least say something about the incident. Something here doesn't add up."

Malcolm Bennett scowled. So it wasn't just his leaders overreacting, these Navy JAGs could see that Col. St. Claire's men were hiding something. He wondered what Col. Stallworth would have to say to this line of investigation. As the team lead, it was his call as to which direction the investigation would go it. From Bennett's perspective, he seemed to want to protect anything Army. Malcolm wondered if that also included the ultra-secretive Green Berets.

"Something bothering you Major?" Malcolm became aware that Stallworth was talking to him.

"Sir, just how evasive Col. St. Claire and his people were during my preliminary investigation," Bennett responded. "It looks like they are hiding something. I know their mission was an infiltration and capture of a high value target, but we were read in on that. It bothers me that they have glossed over their reports and have refused to provide anything more than stock answers that all sound the same. So far I haven't even been able to confirm the exact positions that their men were in. Unlike Alpha Company, who have provided as close as possible to exact location of every man on that mission."

Harm and Mac both nodded in agreement. They had reached the same conclusion. "I was just thinking the same thing Malcolm. Have you been able to get anything out of Col St. Claire himself?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Not word one. He told me, and I quote, 'Blow it out your ass, you kiss-ass.' I believe he took exception to how I was conducting my investigation."

It was Mac's turn to speak up. She looked him square in the eyes, trying to determine what the brigade SJA was trying to say. "That is a very loaded statement, Malcolm. Just how were you conducting your investigation?"

Not one to flinch under scrutiny, Malcolm Bennett replied, "Thoroughly, ma'am."

That one statement hung in the area, with no one willing to disturb the moment. With that one short statement, Malcolm Bennett seemed to hint at some very heavy implications. Without saying it directly, the 173rd's legal officer essentially said that commander of all Special Forces in northern Iraq was at the very least impeding a critical and extremely volatile investigation. If that were proven correct, then that could not only end the career of a highly decorated Army officer, but would create a huge rift between the regular Army and the Special Operations community. And that could be fatal in a war zone.

The only one who hadn't said anything in the last few minutes was Sean Stallworth. In Harm's estimation, this was the longest time he'd gone without talking (minus sleep, of course) in the entire four days he'd spent with him. Mac seemed to notice this as well. He noted the look of concern on her face and he tried to stifle a small grimace. Turning to look at Bennett, Harm saw that younger officer looked mildly baffled that Col. Stallworth had not joined in just yet. They watched him just sitting there staring off at the wall of the tent.

As Stallworth sat there, a strange look came over his face. Then he closed his eyes and interlocked his fingers, placing his hands under his chin while he considered what had been said. He sat like that for several moments. Mac would later confirm that it was three minutes and fifteen seconds. It was when her internal clock ticked over to that fifteenth second past the third minute that Sean's eyes snapped open and he grabbed a note pad that he had been making notes on. He read furiously for about a minute and spent another minute jotting down some further notes. When he was done, he slammed down the pad and looked up at his compatriots.

"Alright, so he's what we know right now," he began without preamble. "According to Alpha Company's after action report, which was confirmed by both the battalion and the brigade, the Annihilators sent their lead platoon along an azimuth of nearly 90 degrees from the basecamp, roughly a distance of about five miles. First Platoon was about a hundred meters to the southwest, moving on a parallel axis. Third Platoon and the headquarters element were roughly about three hundred meters behind Second Platoon in direct support. However, when Second Platoon stopped to launch their recon, First Platoon was almost directly south of them and the rest of the Company had fallen to about 500 meters to the rear.

"When the recon elements were sent forward, Second Platoon was roughly 100 meters from the proposed link-up point. First Platoon was about 150 meters due south of them and sent its own recon to support Second. According to the Second platoon sergeant's statement, it was about fifteen minutes later when gunfire broke out in vicinity of where Second's recon team was. Radio traffic reported enemy contact. When the gunfire started, First's recon team headed back. Their final position was about twenty meters from their Platoon when the airstrike hit. Then confusion reigns over everything."

Mac, Harm and Bennett listened intently as Stallworth painted the picture of the incident. Sean continued by talking about all the peripheral information they were gathering at every turn. Markowitz's statements, the argument in the tent, the lack of depth in the SF team statements, intelligence gaps, the lack of any proof of enemy activity in the area that night and the absence of any eye witness accounts from the recon teams that made first contact. Yes, it was a gruesome and incomplete picture that had all four legal officers' radars going off. Something was right, and it was starting to smell like it was from the Special Forces side of the house.

After pondering a minute about the gaps in their evidence, Mac said, "Harm, was there anything else in Second Platoon's sworn statements that we could be missing?" She had thought that since he was still rifling through the folder, he might be able to glean some minute piece of information that they hadn't yet discovered the significance of.

Harm dug into the file with a frown on his face. He flipped through several statements until he found the ones he was looking for. Forgetting Maj. Bennett, his host, for a minute, he said, "Sean, Mac, when you were reading the platoon leadership's statements, what seemed to be missing?"

The other two O-5's looked at each other and then at their own note pads. Seeing this as a good time to remind people that he was in the room, Malcolm spoke up from behind Harm, "Sir, there appeared to be very little mention of the rescue of the recon team. At least nothing like an eye witness account from the platoon leadership."

Turning back to Malcolm, Harm asked, "And why is that?"

"Because Lt. Swenson was knocked briefly unconscious from the incoming bomb blasts. The medics later diagnosed him with a mild concussion. The platoon sergeant was too busy building a defensive perimeter and contacting higher in his lieutenant's place. The rest of the platoon hunkered down to treat wounded in their ranks and prepare for the firefight they thought was coming."

Nodding slowly at the younger man, Harm replied, "Exactly. Second Platoon was the hardest hit, and suffered the most casualties at their overwatch position. They weren't immediately in position to go out and retrieve the bodies and the wounded, or even make the eventual link-up with the SF team. So who did?"

This time is was Mac who spoke up. "Looks like First Platoon did all of that. From the reports of the platoon leader, platoon sergeant and lead squad leader, it appears that their recon team was almost back when the bombs hit. After recovering their own casualties, First Platoon shifted their position closer to Second Platoon and formed a defensive position. Once the rest of the Company arrived on scene, an element of First went out to try and recover the Second Platoon casualties. It was then that they made first contact with the Special Forces team."

Sean picked this time to re-enter the conversation. "So it appears that we might be able to glean more information on what happened at the point of impact if we talk to the First Platoon leadership before we talk to Second Platoon. What was the platoon leader's name for First again?"

"Second Lieutenant Thomas Daniels," Mac said, looking up from the First Platoon folder.

Looking around the room at the rest of his colleagues and then looking at his watch, Stallworth made a decision. "Well it's getting to be quite late. Why doesn't everyone take a few minutes to get a bite to eat and then catch some rest? We will reconvene at 0600, go over our game plan with some breakfast and then go talk to First Platoon, starting with the PL and PSG."

The other three nodded in consent and went about following Stallworth's directive. Even Harm couldn't argue with the logic of it. They were all beat, Sean, Harm and Mac from the flight, and Malcolm from two months of mobile combat operations. A little rest would allow them to sharpen their wits so they could effectively do their job.

After getting some Meals Ready to Eat (MREs), they were showed to their accommodations and bunked down for the night. Stallworth was disappointed to be asked to bunk with Bennett, but he was too tired to argue. Harm and Mac shared a tent, which had a partition so she could get some measure of privacy. There wasn't much need, because the two crashed almost as soon as they lay down. Tomorrow would be difficult, but tonight they just needed to rest.

Zero six hundred came far too quickly for all of them. After a quick chance to get as cleaned up as possible, the four lawyers reconvened in the SJA tent and had a small, cold breakfast while Stallworth laid out his plan for the interviews of First Platoon. First stop, of course, would be to find and talk to the platoon leader and the platoon sergeant. After that, they would talk to the other NCO's and the rest of the enlisted men.

Bennett led the way to the part of the camp where Lt. Col. Stepanek's battalion, the "Archangels," was located. They small group checked in at the Alpha Company headquarters tent trying to locate both the company commander and to ascertain the whereabouts of the First Platoon leadership. The on-duty NCO told them that Capt. Cunningham was most likely at the battalion aid station checking in on the wounded and that Lt. Daniels was probably in his platoon area, trying to get his platoon ready to rejoin the mission rotation. After confirming the location of the First Platoon area, the four lawyers left the headquarters tent to locate their next interviewee.

Arriving at the First Platoon area, they came across a Specialist Kelso, the platoon leader's radioman. He offered to bring them to his platoon leader, so the small group followed Kelso around the back of a tent and found a small cluster of Soldiers sitting on makeshift chairs, going over the platoon roster. They all looked combat worn, tired and dirty. It wasn't too hard picking out which one the platoon leader was, as they found a young man sitting next to the oldest looking NCO in the group and they were briefing changes to squad manning. The young officer was also having what appeared to be a neck wound being tended to by a medic as he briefed. He didn't seem to let the discomfort distract him as he continued what he was saying.

The lieutenant, despite the well-worn uniform and the confident, professional demeanor he had while briefing looked extremely young, almost too young to be in this position. Then something struck Harm. There was some surprisingly familiar about the eyes and the facial features. He couldn't place it, but Harm could almost swear he'd seen the young man before, though the name didn't ring any bells.

It was at that time that the platoon sergeant noticed the senior officers and called the group to attention. Stallworth at eased the group and Maj. Bennett explained why they were there. He told them that they would all need to be interviewed to help corroborate the sworn statements for the investigation, starting with the platoon leadership. The crusty old platoon sergeant nodded and told him that he would get nothing but cooperation from the platoon and that he would make everyone available for questioning at the officers' convenience. Then he went about introducing his assembled squad leaders to the legal team, ending by properly introducing himself, the platoon medic and their platoon leader.

The whole time that the platoon sergeant was addressing the investigation team, Harm felt the eyes of the platoon leader on them, or rather on him. It was like there was some form of recognition in the young man's eyes that made Harm feel just a little uncomfortable. He wondered where this feeling of familiarity had come from.

When the sergeant had finished his introduction, Bennett felt that he should introduce his guests to the group. "Gentlemen, with me are the senior investigators sent here by Washington. This is Lt. Col. Stallworth from Army JAG HQ and from Naval JAG HQ, Lt. Col. Mackenzie and . . . "

Before Bennett could finish his introduction, Tom Daniels walked right up to Harm, not taking off him the entire time and finished the statement, holding out his hand. "Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr."

Harm took the young man's hand warily. How had the kid known his full name? This was starting to feel suspicious. He slowly reached out and shook the lieutenant's proffered hand and asked, "That's right. Do we know each other, Lieutenant?"

Tom shook his head gingerly, aware of the tenderness in his neck. "Not personally sir. I know you by reputation. You happen to be acquainted with my cousin, Danny O'Brien. I believe you introduced him to his ex-wife."

_Oh shit!_ thought Harm. This was most definitely not a good way to start off the investigation.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I know my responses are taking longer than they were at the beginning of this story, so I apologize for the wait. I am trying to make sure my information, both historically and with the show, is correct. Also, I want to make sure my newer chapters are tighter before I publish them. And since I am already about halfway through my next chapter, I hope for it to be up by the end of the week. However, I do love the continued feedback. The more reviews the better as far as I'm concerned. If you have questions or suggestions/recommendations, please don't hesitate to send them my way. I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 7

_His cousin is Danny O.? _thought Harm. _No wonder why he looks familiar. I can see it in the face. And he had to bring up that whole mess with Meg. This is just one more aggravation I don't need._

"Ah, I see," Harm finally said out loud, releasing the younger man's grasp. "How is your cousin?"

Tom shrugged. "I'm not really sure at the moment, sir. You know how it is with him. He's with the Rangers, and I don't know if he's here in Iraq, over in Afghanistan or somewhere else."

Harm nodded in understanding. His old friend was hard to pin down. He was almost always on the move with the Rangers or some other Special Operations team. Well, at least since the collapse of his marriage to Meg. _Geez Meg_, he thought. _You are the last person I thought would do that, especially while your husband was deployed._

Then he got the impression that he was under intense scrutiny from the surrounding group and shook himself from his reverie. He saw Mac looking at him with unspoken questions on her face. Harm gave her a small look that said they could discuss it later. Turning back to the three Army officers in front of him, he saw that Sean Stallworth was looking at him with thinly disguised suspicion. Bennett wasn't paying much overt attention to the exchange, and Daniels was kept a neutral expression on his face.

Turning to Stallworth, Harm said, "Well it appears that it's a real small military. Anyway Colonel, I believe we had a series of questions for these gentlemen."

Still looking a bit suspicious and a little puzzled, Stallworth nodded and stated, "Quite right Commander." Turning to Daniels and his platoon sergeant, he continued, "Lieutenant Daniels, we need to ask your platoon leadership some questions about the night of the incident."

Daniels turned his attention to the tall, lanky lawyer and snapped to attention. "Sir, my squad leaders and platoon sergeant will be available for interview at your discretion. However, if I may make a request?" Receiving a gesture to proceed, Tom continued. "I would prefer if you start with me and give my NCO's a chance to notify their Soldiers of the where and when to give their statements."

This set off an alarm in the back of Mac's mind. She stepped forward and addressed the young officer. "Lieutenant, this is our investigation. We are perfectly capable of deciding who we want to talk to first and how we plan to take statements from your troops. Have any of us given you the impression that we need you to tell us how this is supposed to go?"

Drawing himself to his full height and locking eyes with the striking Marine officer, Capt. Cunningham's warning came back to Tom briefly. _Well she sure as Hell is no-nonsense,_ he thought. However, Tom Daniels was not about to let his intention or integrity be questioned by an outsider, particularly in the presence of his own men.

"Ma'am," he began slowly, not removing his gaze from her dark eyes. "With all due respect, it was not my intent to undermine your investigation in anyway. I did two things: one was to ask permission to make a request, which was granted. And the second was to volunteer to be your first interview and to allow my NCOs to round up the platoon according to your schedule. I do not see how my requests were either unreasonable or subversive to your authority. If I gave that offense, I do apologize, as I was only trying to facilitate the interview process. My Platoon and I only want to assist in any way we can."

Mac, having realized she may have been a tad overzealous in her response to the young officer's request, acknowledged the logic of his reply. "We appreciate the support, Lieutenant. You must understand, that we cannot, in anyway, allow anything that even looks like impropriety to happen in this investigation. And I'm sure your desire to help was genuine, but we have to do things by the book, to prevent this from turning into a disaster."

A voice grumbled from the collected NCO's in the back, "You mean this isn't already one?"

Stallworth snapped his head around, and before Mac could respond to the comment herself, he bellowed, "That is quite enough! Lieutenant, I want to know who said that immediately! There is absolutely no excuse for disrespecting a senior officer."

Tom stepped towards Stallworth, ready to take full responsibility when his platoon sergeant beat him to it. "Sir, you talk about disrespect, but the three of you come in here and talk down to the NCOs and cut the legs out from under the platoon leader in front of his subordinates. And then to infer that this incident isn't already a disaster is nothing short of insulting."

Stallworth locked eyes with the battle-hardened non-commissioned officer. Sergeant First Class Wesley Corcoran was not one to take disrespect of his Soldiers lying down. In fact, his men had given him the nickname "Mastiff," because he was big, strong and relentless. The powerfully-built platoon sergeant did not flinch under the gaze of the Army's top litigator. After seventeen years and over two hundred jumps, including combat drops in Panama and Iraq, "Mastiff" was not about to let a DC desk jockey belittle his troops.

The fierce glare coupled with the craggy, battle-worn features of Corcoran began to unnerve Stallworth just a bit. He was able to hide it from most, but Mac, Harm and Corcoran himself noticed. It was clear to the veteran paratrooper that despite his rank and reputation, Sean Stallworth was definitely not a combat veteran. However, when he ventured a quick glance at the Navy and Marine lawyers, it was clear that this was not their first time in a warzone. _Interesting_, he thought.

"Sergeant," Stallworth began slowly, trying to reclaim a measure of control over the situation. "We have a very important and time-sensitive job to do right now. There is no time to sugar-coat anything. It should be readily apparent that we have to get to the bottom of this investigation as soon as possible, due to the precariousness of the tactical situation."

It was not any sort of apology and that was readily apparent to Corcoran. However, Stallworth continued, despite the narrowing eyes of the platoon sergeant boring through him. "However, I understand that this has been an extremely difficult situation for all of you. And I am quite sure that Colonel Mackenzie was not saying that this whole incident was not a tragedy. Our purpose here is to ensure that this does not become an even bigger disaster than it is already is. Blue-on-blue incidents are among the most regrettable situations that happen in combat."

Tired of the posturing from all sides, Tom Daniels walked over and inserted himself between Stallworth and Corcoran. "Sir, what do you need me to do in order to help facilitate your interviews with my platoon?"

Taking his eyes off of the grim-faced platoon sergeant, Stallworth said, "Lieutenant, we will want to talk to you and your leaders first, then we will need to go over the statements from the rest of your platoon, starting with the lead squad. Believe me, son, we just want to find out what happened. I know your platoon took losses and you want answers, but this is way we have to go about it."

Tom just nodded at what Stallworth had said. The colonel's explanation and guidance had diffused the situation a little bit. "Roger sir. Shall I have my leaders gather the rest of the platoon here?"

"Yes Lieutenant," the colonel responded. "Have all members of your platoon not in the aid station meet here ASAP. Once they are gathered, have your platoon sergeant report their assembly to Major Bennett and he will then join us. As soon as we are done with you and your platoon sergeant, we will start on your squad leaders. Major Bennett will stay with your platoon and start interviewing them as soon as we are done debriefing you and your platoon sergeant. Any questions?"

Tom Daniels shook his head and affirmed that he had no questions. With that, Stallworth dismissed him to disseminate the information to his platoon. The lieutenant acknowledged the dismissal with a respectful inclination of his head and Stallworth walked back to where Harm and Mac were standing. Tom guided Corcoran back towards the collected squad leaders. Turning to face his platoon sergeant, Tom said, "Looks like you and I made a Hell of a first impression, doesn't it Mastiff?"

The gruff old Soldier grunted a slightly amused sound. "Heh, most likely. I don't care what that guy's reputation is, it's pretty obvious that he hasn't spent any time in a combat zone. I hope that lack of experience doesn't affect the investigation too greatly." He paused for a second and then looked back at his platoon leader. "After meeting that Commander Rabb, are you still nervous about his motives?"

Giving a weary sigh, Tom said, "Wasn't really much to go on. But it definitely caught him off-guard when I mentioned my cousin and his ex-wife. However, despite my earlier misgivings, one of the things I remember Danny saying that was the most impressive about Rabb was his determination to get to the truth. We know we did everything according to our orders and those orders were sound. When the shit hit the fan, we did what we were trained to do, so as long as we make it clear that's what we did, then I think we will be alright."

Corcoran nodded absently as his platoon leader finished his point. "Tracking sir. Well remember, no matter what, we are a team here, and I have your back. This platoon did everything right as far as I'm concerned, and I will be damned sure I let those legal weenies know it."

Chuckling softly to himself, Tom shook his head. Turning to look at his squad leaders who were quietly talking amongst themselves, Tom came to his decision. "Alright Mastiff, have the squad leaders round up the troops and report to Major Bennett when we've got them all assembled. Once the platoon is all together, Major Bennett will direct you to where they are interviewing me, and they will finish our statements together. When we are done, they will talk to the squad leaders while we support Major Bennett's interviews with the platoon."

"Mastiff" Corcoran nodded in assent with his platoon leader. Despite the lieutenant being out of college and ROTC for just about a year, Mastiff had seen enough of him to realize that the young man was truly a rare kind of leader. There was an immediate trust between them, as the lieutenant was smart, respectful, motivated and tough. He, without fail, put the needs of his men first, and listened to the advice and recommendations from his non-commissioned officers, especially Corcoran himself. _The kid has fire_, Corcoran thought._ Those lawyers better watch out._

"Oh and Mastiff," Daniels said just before he headed over to the three senior field grade officers. "Take Mitch aside and have a little chat with him about thinking before speaking."

With a devilish smirk on his face, Corcoran gave his platoon leader a look that said they were on the same wave length. Trying to repress a small smile himself, Tom nodded and walked over to Stallworth, Rabb and Mackenzie. Tom steeled himself, knowing that this was going to be a long and drawn out process, but one that was going to be completely necessary.

Corcoran gather the squad leaders around and gave them their marching orders. They had fifteen minutes to gather their squads back in their current location, in the center of the platoon's area. He didn't want any issues or anyone being uncooperative with Major Bennett. If any Soldiers caused any unnecessary problems, then they would be dealt with personally by Mastiff himself. Once his point had been made, Corcoran sent the squad leaders out to get their squads.

Just as Staff Sergeant Mitchell was heading towards where what was left of his squad was resting, he felt a huge arm wrap around his neck and halting him in his tracks. "Uh, something I can do for your Sergeant," he asked, already figuring he knew what was coming.

"Mitch," Corcoran began, in a low growl. "I know this situation sucks and you've lost half your squad, but you really put the L.T. and myself in a bind. I sure as Hell wasn't going to let the PL get nuked for your big mouth. And while I don't have a problem backing down a pencil-pusher, if you ever pop off like that again, I will fucking break you in half. You tracking?"

While Abel Mitchell was a well-respected squad leader and a fitness stud, he knew that Corcoran could crush him, literally. Fighting back a gulp, Mitch turned as much as he could in the firm grip of Mastiff's arm and croaked out a frustrated, "Roger, Sergeant. Won't happen again."

Releasing his grip on Mitchell's neck, Corcoran just nodded, knowing that Mitch had learned his lesson. Watching as the squad leader moved off to round up his men, Corcoran put his hands on his hips. His platoon had taken a beaten, and its members were tired and frustrated, but he wasn't about to let them lose their edge or their professionalism. _Doesn't matter what anyone says_, he thought. _The enemy isn't beaten yet, and we need to be ready._

Harm and Mac stood silently with Sean Stallworth watching the First Platoon leadership give out their instructions for the interview process_._ Mac noted that the platoon leader and platoon sergeant seemed to be a pretty effective team, feeding off each other and staying on the same page. It reminded her of the way she and Gunny Galindez used to work together when he was still at JAG. They definitely could have used his investigative skills during this operation.

As they watched, Mac leaned towards Harm and quietly said, "So Lieutenant Daniels is the cousin of that crazy Army buddy of yours?"

Harm sighed and replied, "Yeah Mac, looks like it. I thought there was something familiar about him when I first got a look at him. I can see the resemblance in the face. Of course Danny O. is taller, but there is also something similar in his leadership style."

Mac thought back to the early days of their partnership. Harm was going out to dinner at McMurphy's Tavern with a friend who was in town and had invited her to come by. Mac had come by later in the evening, having worked late that night, but when she got there, the two had already thrown back a few and were knee-deep in swapping war stories. The man, introduced to her as Army Captain Daniel O'Brien, had a warm smile and an easy-going demeanor, but there was a toughness about him that she couldn't quite place. Despite being in a well-travelled bar, with friends and even after about half a dozen drinks, the younger officer had a constant vigilance about him that made Mac a bit tense. Harm would later explain that Danny O. was in a Ranger unit and had an uncanny situational awareness that had served him well in his field.

There wasn't a lot of mention of a home life when Harm and Danny got together, mostly relieving some interesting times related to the Academies and a couple run-ins later in their lives. However, Mac was shocked to learn that in the year before she arrived to JAG, Harm and his previous partner had investigated a joint-training mishap between the Army and the Marines. It turned out that Danny was in an Army unit that had been hit by live-fire Marine artillery, leading to the wounding of several Soldiers. While the cause of the incident was an error in the new fire control system being used, it had put Harm and Danny on opposite sides of the issue for a while, stressing the friendship. It generally tended to be a big topic of discussion during their subsequent get-togethers.

"So it seems like whenever you investigate Marine-on-Army accidental fire incidents, it just so happens to include Army officers from the same family?" she asked him, somewhat incredulously. "Looks like an odd coincidence, Flyboy."

That drew Harm up short for a second. The discussion had obviously piqued Sean Stallworth's interest. "Wait, did I hear you correctly Mac?" he asked. "The lieutenant's cousin was involved in a similar incident? Doesn't that strike you as somewhat suspicious?"

Harm turned towards Sean and said, "It really isn't, Sean. The incident with his cousin was about eight years ago, and it was a joint training exercise. A bug in a new fire control system caused Marine artillery fire to go off course and impact near an Army infantry company. There were several wounded and the lieutenant's cousin was the company commander at the time. The results of the investigation were computer and operator error."

Stallworth nodded as he processed the information. "Do you feel there is any conflict of interest with you, having a connection with one of our witnesses?"

Trying to look at this from Stallworth's position and managing, mostly, to not take offense, Harm replied, "I've known Danny O'Brien for nearly fifteen years. He has no connection to this incident and I have never met his cousin before. Nor had I even heard the kid's name before yesterday."

"Alright," Stallworth said after a moment of thought. "That works for me. But we need to approach this cautiously. These men are extremely edgy and bordering on hostile."

Mac snorted at the comment. "Well wouldn't you be, Sean? They've been out here alone and unafraid for two months, fighting without much support or rest. To make matters worse, they possibly get caught in a crossfire between Iraqi military and US Special Forces, with the topper being accidentally hit by a Marine airstrike. I sure as Hell would be edgy and hostile."

Her last sentence hung in the air between the three senior attorneys for a long moment. Each processed the situation they currently found themselves in differently. They all had different views on how to proceed with the investigation, but were unsure how they would be able to reconcile their views of the events with the constantly changing picture of the incident.

They were pulled from their thoughts by the approach of Tom Daniels. "Ma'am, gentlemen, my NCO's are rounding up the platoon. Sergeant First Class Corcoran will be joining us soon, but I am ready to go and at your service."

"Ah yes, excellent Lieutenant," Stallworth said, coming back to the situation at hand. "As mentioned earlier, we will need to go over your statement of the incident. There are some discrepancies in our information and we were hoping you could help clear some things up for us. "

"Yes sir," Tom replied. "Anything I can do to help. Where to?"

Harm spoke up. "That's a good question. We've been using the Brigade legal tent as our workstation, but it's on the other side of camp. It really would be a lot easier for us and for your platoon if we could find a place close by to conduct our interviews. Any suggestions?"

Turning towards the tall naval officer, Tom regarded him quietly. After thinking for a moment, he faced the collective group of officers and said, "Roger sir, we can use the tent behind our command post. It's where our company and Bravo Company have been holding meetings since we settled in to this location last week. If you will follow me, it's just around the corner."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I hope that everyone is enjoying the story thus far. I know I've thrown a lot of curveballs out there and I give my OC's a lot of ink, but I think that this is really going to be fun ride for folks out there. I consider this a sort of nod to how a lot of shows ran in the last two seasons, with the guest stars whom the stories/cases revolve around received roughly equal screen time as the main characters. I know there isn't much shipper action in this one, but bear with me, I fully have the best interest of the canon characters at heart! Keep the reviews coming!_

Chapter 8

The three military lawyers followed the young lieutenant across the compound towards the commander's tent. Once inside, the three senior officers took up position on the far side of the small camp table that was set up. Tom took his seat across from them and waited patiently for them to begin the interview. They removed several files from their bags and took out pens, paper and tape recorders. Tom was beginning to get nervous at the sight of all the legal paraphernalia, but his outward appearance remained neutral and unreadable.

Once they were finally ready, the three attorneys began their questioning. Harm and Mac remained silent as Stallworth started off. "Lieutenant Daniels, why don't you tell us about what your mission was on the night of the incident."

Mentally settling himself, Tom looked at all three officers, one by one, before turning his attention to Stallworth. "Sir, my Company was ordered to conduct a link-up and extraction of a Special Forces team, codenamed, Chupacabra. They were tasked with capturing one of Saddam Hussein's most sadistic officers, Colonel Raheem Jamil al Hassani. He's been a butcher of hundreds of Kurds during the purges in the 1990's. The people around here call him "the Soul Catcher," because they believed when he looks into your eyes, he will steal your soul to feed his lust for power and death.

"Second Platoon was the lead element," he continued. "And the one that was tasked with conducting the actual link-up. My platoon was almost 100 meters south of them during the movement, protecting their flank. When we reached the assigned link-up coordinates, I called a halt and took up a defensive position. After communications with both Captain Cunningham and Lieutenant Swenson confirmed that Chupacabra had not yet made the link-up point, I suggested that we send out a recon element."

Tom paused to take a breath. He also took a small sip from a canteen on his hip. The heat of the Iraqi spring was starting to make its presence known, even at that early hour of the day. Once his thirst had been quenched, Tom started to continue his report when Mac spoke up.

"So you were the one who recommended that a recon was sent out?" When Tom acknowledged her question in the affirmative, Mac continued. "Why did you make that recommendation?"

"Ma'am," Tom stated. "We had been on station for about half an hour past the link-up time. Being this far out from our battalion's main lines, and with an uncertain enemy situation ahead of us, I felt that we needed to see if there was an issue with the Special Forces team. I suggested that First and Second Platoons each send out a recon fire team to check around the link-up site, looking for any signs of Chupacabra. I reasoned that they possibly were hunkered down behind some terrain feature, trying not to be seen by locals or Iraqi forces. My commander concurred with the assessment and both platoons sent our teams out."

Mac nodded and wrote some notes down on her pad. "Lieutenant, at any time during your wait, did anyone in your platoon see or hear anything that may have been Iraqi military personnel in your vicinity?"

That caught Tom's attention. He had gone over the events of the incident in his mind a hundred times since it happened. He had been up at the front of his platoon when the recon was launched, and he didn't hear or see a thing. No one in Mitchell's squad mentioned anything about that either. Joe's Soldiers hadn't said much about that either. The only ones who mentioned Iraqi forces at all were from the Special Forces team, but they refused to be specific. He thought he might have an idea where Colonel Mackenzie was going with this question, but he wasn't sure.

"Honestly ma'am," Tom began, knowing that it was a rather ridiculously way to start a sentence when giving a sworn statement. "I didn't hear or see anything that gave me any proof that there were Iraqi forces in the area that night. No one in my platoon mentioned that during our after action reports. The only thing like that I heard came from the survivors of Second Platoon's lead squad, who reported that they came under fire. They couldn't say by whom, but we didn't find any proof of enemy combatants being along the Second Platoon recon team's axis of advance. The evidence from the firefight that we could find in the area of the airstrike appeared to be . . ."

Then he stopped talking abruptly. It was as though his train of thought came to a screeching halt. This brought him under the scrutiny of the three O-5's sitting across from him. Stallworth eyed him with suspicion and Harm looked at him with intense curiosity. However, Mac's facial expressions completely unreadable, except for the eyes, which seemed to burn with questions. And she was going to ask them.

"Lieutenant?" she asked. When he didn't immediately respond, she pushed a little harder. "Lieutenant, what did your patrol discover at the impact area?"

The young officer was lost in thought for a moment. The three lawyers could see the wheels turning in his head as he was running back through the immediate aftermath of the airstrike. Then his eyes widened, then narrowed, with his jaw clenching, he muttered, "It couldn't be." A realization seemed to strike him hard, and he almost looked ill.

"Those sons of bitches!" he spat out, not even acknowledging the presence of three superior officers.

Tom was only snapped back to the present with a harsh command from Mac. "Lieutenant! Care to let us in on your internal monologue? Or are you going to just continue to mutter and curse?"

At the sound of Mac's forcefully asked questions, Tom Daniels' eyes came back into focus and his head snapped forward, locking eyes with the perturbed Marine. "Apologies ma'am, but something had been bothering me about things I saw at the scene of the incident. As I ran it all back through my mind while answering your questions, some of the odd points began to stick out."

Trying to keep Mac from launching into a tirade, Harm jumped in and said, "Well, from you reaction a moment ago, it looks like you've come to some sort of conclusion. Would that be fair to say?"

Switching his gaze from Mac to Harm, Tom answered, "Yes sir."

Mac was clearly frustrated with not only the way the interview was going, but also the lieutenant's way of answering only direct questions. Fighting to keep her calm, she asked, "Do you plan on letting us in on your conclusion then, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am," he began slowly. "I may have come to a conclusion myself, but it's not one I really think I should voice because all I have are suspicions and loose threads."

This was not the response that any of the lawyers wanted to hear from him. Hell, it wasn't really an answer he wanted to give, because of what the implications were. And if he turned out to be wrong, he could very well put his career in jeopardy. Tom was tired, sore and frustrated. All he wanted was for this nightmare to be put behind him. However, he also wanted answers about what happened and justice done for the men who lost their lives.

Lt. Col. Stallworth had been watching the back and forth between Mac and Tom and decided he should step in. "Ah, Lieutenant, this is an investigation into a fratricide incident. It is not prudent, or wise to withhold anything in the course of an official investigation. In fact, it would be a rather poor career move. If you are trying to protect someone, or yourself, let me assure you, issuing false statements will result in your being charged with additional offenses. Do I make myself clear?"

The silky smoothness of Stallworth's delivery did not to hide the thinly veiled threats he was making. He had hoped to back the lieutenant into a position where he would have no choice but to cooperate. As much as he wanted to keep from finding that the Army unit on the ground was not at fault, Sean Stallworth was also not about miss a chance to blow the case wide open, no matter the source. If he could find the missing pieces that tied this all together in a nice package, he would jump on it without hesitation. Not only would it be a great boost for his career, but it would most assuredly enhance his reputation in DC and his marketability for later in life.

However, Stallworth's attempt at cowing the young infantry officer had the exact opposite effect. The younger man's eyes blazed with fury, and his facial features darkened. His jaw clenched with barely contained outrage. It was blatantly obvious to the three senior officers that Tom Daniels was extremely angry and was struggling to keep his calm. When he began to speak, Harm was afraid he was going to fly off the handle and rage himself into a career-threatening insubordination charge.

"Sir," Tom choked out through very clenched teeth. "I wasn't under the impression that I was going to be charged with any offenses at all? Forgive me if I am wrong, but if that were the case, shouldn't I have been notified of the charges before we began the interview? I thought that is how the military justice system was supposed to work."

Seeing that he was caught up in his bluff, Stallworth tried to throw the young man off track by hammering onto another point. "Lieutenant, you are missing my point. Do you feel that it is becoming of an Army officer, particularly one who has been given the great responsibility of leading men in combat, to try and withhold evidence in an official investigation? I can tell you right now, that is most assuredly not."

The look that Stallworth got from Daniels was blazing with indignation. "Sir, with all due respect, this entire line of questioning from you and Colonel Mackenzie has been nothing short of insulting and offensive. And simply put, I take exception to any accusation that I sacrifice my integrity or put my own welfare ahead of that of my troops. The only thing I want is to find out what happened and why my company is sending six men home in body bags from our own damn aircraft! And despite all the efforts of my platoon to facilitate this team's ability to be able to get to the truth, we find ourselves under scrutiny and belittled at every turn!

Tom didn't realize that during his heated response to the inflammatory remarks by Stallworth and Mac, he had bolted to his feet and was now looking down at the three senior officers. When he had finished, he saw the rather stunned look on all three of their faces. He himself was breathing heavy, not realizing that he had been barely able to keep his anger from letting lose control completely. The energy had drained out of him completely and the wounds in his neck, arm and leg began to throb with the blood rush through his body.

Upon realizing what had just occurred, Tom immediately snapped to attention, eyes locked at a point above and beyond the investigative team. Taking a deep breath, he brought himself under control and addressed the three officers again, looking them in the eyes. "Gentlemen, ma'am, I apologize for my outburst. I realize that it most likely means a charge of insubordination, and I will gladly take my punishment for my offense. However, I still maintain that I have nothing to hide and at no time was I trying to withhold any evidence. But I was out of line and that I will not accept from myself."

With that said, Tom shut his mouth and returned his gaze to a point forward, grimacing as his injuries, covered with dirt and sweat, rubbed against his uniform. As Tom remained silent, Stallworth was composing himself and look like he was trying to find a way to be both eloquent and damning at the same time. Mac, for her part, looked like she was about to spit nails. Even the normally unflappable Harm was a bit off kilter by the whole series of events. This was about to devolve into a complete mess and stop the investigation dead in its tracks unless someone did something. It was now up to Harm.

As Mac and Sean were both about to speak, Harm stood up and said, "At ease Lieutenant. What did you mean when you said that you shouldn't voice your concerns because all you have are suspicions and loose threads?"

Locking eyes with Harm, Tom said, "Sir, I don't have any evidence to back up where my train of thought led me, but there were some inconsistencies that just don't make sense about the area that Second's recon team went through."

Narrowing his eyes at the statement, Harm cocked his head to the right and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. "Like what, Lieutenant?" he asked.

Taking another deep breath to compose his thoughts, Tom continued, "Sir, as I said before, we didn't hear or see anything that gave us proof that Second Platoon had engaged Iraqi forces in the area. No one in my platoon annotated that during our after action reports. The survivors of Second Platoon's lead squad did report that they came under fire, but they couldn't confirm by whom. The rescue team I led to the area of where their recon was didn't find any proof of enemy combatants between Second and Chupacabra. The only evidence of the firefight that we could find in the area of the airstrike appeared to be of American origin."

Taking his seat and grabbing his notepad, Harm looked back at Tom and said, "Of American origin? What do you mean by that?"

"Well sir," Tom went on. "We found more than a few recently spent 5.56mm casings around both the recon team's position and in the vicinity of link-up point with the Special Forces team. There were also 7.62mm casings and links near the link-up coordinates. The area there was just outside the blast radius of the bombs and looked like it had been occupied for a time and then abandoned quickly. Plus, there appeared to be casings and links in directions other than the avenue of approach to the position. As I mentioned sir, at first it doesn't look like much, but when you add it all together . . ."

Tom again left his statement hanging in the air, almost unwilling to complete the thought. This time, instead of fending off bluster from a very unhappy Marine or threats and accusations from a DC desk-jockey, Tom's statement was being thoroughly absorbed and analyzed by the sharp legal mind of the Navy's top JAG investigator.

Stallworth was about to say something when a hand on his arm courtesy of Mac stopped him. She'd seen Harm work these things through before and wanted to see where he was going to go with it. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Harm, and silently, internally, he was just a little bit reassured that she had his back once again.

"Alright," Harm began. "Look, I know you don't want to speculate and you only want to give us information that you can prove, but I am going to need to hear what you think. You were there on the ground when things went south, and you know what was supposed to transpire on this mission. You have a unique ability to shed light on the situation. I am willing to give you a little leeway here, so why don't you just tell me what you think sum of all the parts is?"

Not liking guessing, but feeling more encouraged, Tom sighed and continued with his train of thought. "Well sir, when you put it all together, it looks to me like the SF team had a position out near the link-up coordinates and opened fire on Second Platoon's recon team. I know what it sounds like, that we are trying to shift blame or something but I am telling you what I saw. And I am not the only one either. I know that Staff Sergeant Mitchell can back me up, because he was there with me and the evidence we found is listed in his statement. I also mentioned the links, casings and positions at the end of my report under additional comments.

"I am not accusing anyone of anything," he went on. "But to my untrained eye, it doesn't look good. Hell, the SF guys nearly shot me when we finally made link-up and attempted to render aid to their wounded. They were acting extremely suspicious and then began to accuse us of blowing the whole mission. I'm sure you've heard that things between us and them have been, uh, um, strained, since the airstrike. All the signs, to me, point towards Chupacabra and the recon team engaging each other."

As Tom Daniels was speaking, the three lawyers noticed a significant change in both tone and demeanor. Mac could see that it was tearing the young man up to be even thinking that he might be accusing fellow Army personnel of firing on each other and possibly even covering it up. Her anger with the young officer seemed to lessen as she saw what he was saying take a toll on him. When he was finished, in her eyes, he appeared to look much younger, actually looking more like a twenty-three year old kid, than a combat-hardened infantry officer.

However, before Mac could return to the discussion, Harm frowned and then spoke. "Lieutenant, I need to confer with my two colleagues here. Please step outside and wait for a few minutes. We will call you back in when we are finished, alright?"

Not wasting any time, Tom snapped to his feet and said, "Yes, sir. Moving time now, sir."

As he watched the platoon leader go, Harm sat back in his chair and blew a low, long whistle. "This investigation keeps getting more and more complex at every turn."

Stallworth nodded absentmindedly at Harm's comment and then looked at Mac, saying, "Well, that was most definitely not how I envisioned this session going. He was quite reluctant to answer questions and then got decidedly hostile. So much for the battalion and brigade commanders' assurances of respect and cooperation from their troops. Even worse, is that this behavior has come from one of the officers, and a highly regarded one as well. If you want, Mac, I will do the honors of writing up his charges and giving them to Major Bennett. It will move more quickly, I think, with an Army officer filing them."

Mac frowned at the suggestion. She wasn't sure where she stood on the idea of filing charges against Lieutenant Daniels. Despite his outburst, she realized that she again overreacted to his responses, not bothering to see why he was having difficulty answering certain questions. After seeing Harm walk him through the process again, hearing what he had to say and feeling his discomfort at what some of his statements might imply, she began to feel for the young man.

She was about to respond to Sean, when Harm, again interjected. "Sean, what the Hell for?"

That caught Stallworth off-guard. "I beg your pardon, Commander?"

Trying not to be both frustrated and incredulous, Harm said, "Why would you want to file charges against him? For insubordination? That's a complete sham and you know it. You bullied and threatened him without trying to find the truth another way. You challenged his integrity," and with a side long look at Mac, "you both did. Mac, I know how you react when yours is called into question unfairly, and I know you know how I react in the same situation. We are trying to get to the truth here, not just find someone to blame."

Mac sighed heavily, knowing that Harm was right. She had twice been pretty short with the young officer who was in a very unenviable position. While she generally would not condone the kind of outbursts that the lieutenant had shown, the combination of the hard situation he was in and her own overzealousness and attitude most assuredly contributed to the whole regrettable incident. If she were to lecture a subordinate on professionalism and military decorum, she'd had to be in control of herself.

"At this point," she said in a weary voice. "Trying to charge Lieutenant Daniels with insubordination will be only detrimental to our work here. You and I both let our righteousness get in the way of our better judgment when we talked to both him and his NCO's. We would be poor examples of officers and JAG attorneys to let pointless squabbling and misunderstandings get in the way of finding out the truth. After seeing the look on his face when he admitted what he'd seen at the impact site, you can tell that he is fully aware of the implications his statement will have."

Moving from behind the desk and into the middle of the tent, Harm concurred. "He looked sick to his stomach, like he was breaking his oath or something when he told us what his troops discovered. The implications aren't good. If we are able to corroborate his story, then it looks like the SF team not only opened fire on the extraction team, but called in an airstrike on friendly forces."

Finally deciding to join Harm and Mac on this side of the situation, Stallworth concluded, "It would definitely explain why Colonel St. Claire has been generally hostile and uncooperative with the investigation so far. Of course, we will really have to have indisputable evidence to break through the wall of silence that the Green Berets have thrown up. Of course, should we be able to prove that they did it, it would also have some very unpleasant outcomes for many people, us included. St. Claire has some very powerful and influential friends back in Washington."

That last statement from Stallworth really rubbed Harm the wrong way. He'd really had it with Stallworth's political maneuvering and his career-first mentality. The tall former aviator turned towards the lanky Army lawyer and snapped, "I don't give a damn about St. Claire's powerful friends in Washington, or the so-called unpleasantness that we may have to deal with if our findings aren't popular. I care about what happens to the men and women on the ground in these warzones. They are putting their asses on the line against enemies who hate and attack everything we stand for, and you are worried about what getting to the truth here might do to your career?!"

"You _do_ realize the impact that this case could have on relations between the Special Operations community and conventional military units, don't you _Commander?!_" Stallworth shot back, rising to his feet. Despite the fact that Harm had two inches on him and probably twenty-five pounds, Sean Stallworth did not back down. "If it becomes known that a Spec Ops unit was responsible for the negligent deaths of half a dozen fellow Soldiers who were supposed to be their reinforcements, and then tried to cover it up, it would drive a huge wedge between both sides. One, I may add, that may take years to fix."

Stallworth completed his statement and punctuated it with a smug smile. While he had a point, even Mac was starting to tire of his posturing like a peacock. Trying to diffuse the tension between the two, she explained, "Harm, Sean is partially correct. This is not a situation to go charging headlong into without a plan, just in the name of truth and justice. We do need to have a clear plan of attack. But, Sean," she said, turning towards Stallworth. "Harm also has a point. We can't just ignore the facts in this case, just because they are unpleasant or may piss off some bigwigs back home because we gave a bloody nose to their golden boy. So we have to figure out what to do next."

Harm grunted in acknowledgement of Mac's point. Turning away from the both of them, he said, "I know what I'm going to do next. I'm going outside and talk to Tom Daniels and try to get him settled. Then I think we need to continue to do what we were doing with the interview plan and follow the truth, no matter where it leads."

And with that, he put his cover on his head and walked out of the tent.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sorry that the last few chapters may have slowed down the pace of the story right now, but I felt it was necessary to be able to show the dynamics of what was going on and how tough this investigation was going to be. The pace will pick up in the next few chapters. I hope my interpretations of the canon characters are close to how they are portrayed on tv. I know there was a lot of shock and speculation about how Meg is being interpreted. Don't worry, further explanations are forthcoming. I want to thank everyone for the reviews, especially _byrhthelm _and _Michi uk. _Please keep them coming._

Chapter 9

Tom Daniels had spent the last five or six minutes standing outside trying to gather his thoughts and reign in his emotions. He was pissed at himself for losing his cool like that and blowing up at three superior officers. Tom expected better from himself and could not believe his poor judgment and attitude. It was then that he realized that this was becoming a recent habit with the leaders in his platoon, having witnessed similar outbursts from Mitchell and Corcoran just this morning.

_If this is what we_ _allow ourselves to do as leaders, how can we expect our subordinates to keep it together?_ he thought grimly. _No, I have to be better than that and I can't let my troops sink to that level either. It would dishonor the memories of the men we lost._

Due to being deep in thought, Tom barely registered the sounds of the pretty heated argument going on in the tent behind him. However, he did notice when the noise died down and he turned around at the sound of the tent flap opening. Knowing that it could only be one or more of the O-5s exiting the tent, Tom came to attention, tensely awaiting his fate. When he saw that it was Harmon Rabb exiting the tent alone, some of the tension left his body, but not all of it.

Seeing Tom at attention, Harm gave a small smile and said, "At ease Lieutenant."

"Yes sir," Tom replied, going to at ease. "Sir, I do want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I don't put up with that my behavior from my men, and I expect better from myself. I will accept whatever punishment you and the others decide on without question."

A small wave of déjà vu came over Harm as he looked at the lieutenant. Thinking back to meeting a young West Point cadet at a swim meet during a trip back to Annapolis early in his career, Harm noticed further similarities between Tom and Danny O'Brien. Chuckling softly to himself, Harm said, "Look kid, there are times you really remind me of your cousin."

Tom wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or not. "Sir? I'm not sure how to take that."

"Don't worry about it Lieutenant," Harm replied. "It was a more of an observation than a judgment. You are both passionate about your duty and are not afraid to own up to your own mistakes. Both are outstanding qualities to have as leader and as a person. Of course, it's generally not wise to go around yelling at superior officers, even if they may have done something to deserve it.

"But don't worry about any sort of charges," he continued as he wiped sweat off his forehead. "I talked to both Colonel Stallworth and Colonel Mackenzie. They feel that since they both overstepped their bounds, they may have provoked that emotion response from you. Let's just say that you've received a verbal counseling on maintaining emotional control and move on. How's that sound?"

Tom looked up at Harm and realized that the older officer had probably prevented him from receiving a major ding on his record. It looked like his cousin's descriptions of Harmon Rabb were pretty accurate after all. Drawing himself up to his full height of 5'11 and coming to attention again, Tom said, "That sounds more than fair, sir. Thank you sir."

Harm noticed how the constant shifting of his position seemed to be causing Tom discomfort. Then he remembered the neck wound that was being treated earlier during their initial meeting. Figuring that the injury, which was right around collar level was most likely being rubbed raw by the movement of the uniform, Harm asked if Tom was doing ok. In typical infantry fashion, Tom, of course, said he was fine. _God, it's just like dealing with Marines._

"Well you may say you're fine, but I can see that each movement of your shoulders appears to cause you pain. Why don't you let me take a look at it?"

Shifting uncomfortably where he stood, Tom averted his gaze from Harm. "Uh, it's okay sir, not necessary."

Trying not to roll his eyes, Harm sighed. "It wasn't meant as a suggestion Lieutenant."

Getting immediately what Harm was implying, Tom stood still while the older officer gently moved the collar of his uniform and looked at the bandage. There were signs of fresh blood starting to come through the bandage. Figuring that the injury was probably worse than Tom was letting on due to constant blood flow, Harm realized that he had probably needed to get his wound looked at again soon.

"Lieutenant," he began. "Your wound is bleeding. Did you get it properly treated in the aftermath of the airstrike?"

Sighing with discomfort and frustration, Tom replied, "Yes sir I did. And it was stitched up by the Company's senior medic, after all the serious injuries were taken care of. The problem is that it's right under my collar, so when sand and dirt get into the bandage, they get ground into the wound, leaving it raw and prone to bleeding. I need to get it cleaned more frequently than I am able to most of the time."

Harm nodded at what Tom was saying. In all fairness to the kid, Harm himself was also notoriously bad at letting his injuries heal and seeking medical treatment. Mac usually had to drag him to the doctor when he was hurt, or she would tell the Admiral and he'd be ordered to go. This is definitely an alpha male quality. He just hoped that the kid wouldn't develop a serious infection out in the Iraqi desert.

"Well just make sure that when you get back to your platoon, you let your medic look at that again," Harm stated plainly. Seeing Tom nod in consent, Harm continued. "I saw in your platoon's AAR that you were wounded in the left arm and leg as well. How are those injuries doing?"

Moving closer to the tent and the meager shade it offered against the Iraqi morning sun, Tom turned away from Harm as he replied, "They are doing fine. Not having the issues with them that I have with my neck. Probably due to the fact that they are better protected by my uniform and less rubbing is occurring."

Moving up to stand beside Tom, but not turning to face him, Harm asked, "Were these three injuries all sustained during the airstrike? Or did you receive them from any other form of contact?"

Seeing where Harm was going with the line of questioning, Tom sighed and responded. "Sir, as noted in my statement, I was moving up to receive my returning recon team when the bombs hit. I turned away from the impact and shielded my face from the incoming blast, but I was hit by shrapnel and other debris. That's why all my injuries are on my left side. I remember feeling the pain in the immediate aftermath of the blast but once I started to hear the calls for help and the cries of the wounded, I forgot all about myself.

"We braced for an attack, but when none came, I sent a squad out to locate our recon team. When they located every member of the team, they returned to the platoon to get them triaged. I was communicating with my CO, who was moving the rest of the Company up in support. My platoon sergeant was trying to make contact with Second Platoon, but Joe Swenson was out cold and his platoon sergeant was still trying to take accountability. Things were a mess. All order had gone to shit. We managed to get ourselves under control when Capt. Cunningham order me to close the gap between us and Second, joining the new Company perimeter. Third Platoon took up positions to our rear to protect us from being flanked, while the Boss and I went over to see what Second's condition was. They were the closest to the impact site and received the brunt of the blast. It was awful. Blood, debris, wounded men, destruction everywhere. After seeing all that, I just forgot about my own injuries until we were finally back in the battalion area."

The whole time Tom talked, Harm stayed quiet. He didn't want to interrupt the young man's train of thought or his recounting of the events. It was both necessary for the investigation to learn what happened onsite, but he could tell that this was something that Tom Daniels needed to talk about. It was fairly obvious that a lot of what Tom had seen and experienced out there he hadn't talked about before. If he was going to heal emotionally and mentally from this incident, he was going to have to talk about it with someone.

"I know what the official report says Tom," Harm began. "But how many injuries did your platoon really sustain in the airstrike?" The Company's official after action report stated that seven members of First Platoon sustained injuries from F/A-18 strike: all five members of the recon team, the team's squad leader, Staff Sgt. Mitchell and Lt. Daniels. However, if the platoon leader and lead squad leader were injured by shrapnel and debris, and they were on the platoon's perimeter, others had to have received at least minor injuries. Due to the heavy amount of wounded that Second Platoon sustained, and the severity of the injuries to the recon teams, it was probable that the official report only mentioned the seriously wounded and more minor injuries were largely relegated to the background. However, if Harmon Rabb was going to tangle with an SF full bird, he wanted all the critical details he could find.

Tom Daniels was slightly taken aback by Commander Rabb's use of his first name. It resonated with Tom, particularly the tone of understanding and sincerity in his voice. That put the younger man a little more at ease with the situation. While he had a healthy dose of respect for his cousin's old friend, it was something that he hadn't truly expected during this investigation. It was something the lieutenant would not soon forget.

Harm's more familiar approach did not go unnoticed either, by Sarah Mackenzie, who had heard some of Tom's story through the flaps of the tent. She was drawn to the tent's entrance by the tale and when he finished, she quietly made her way outside, standing behind the two of them, listening intently for what may come next. When she heard Harm's almost paternal approach to the lieutenant, she had been surprised. It reminded her of better days back at JAG and between the two of them. She then quietly and intently, awaited Tom Daniels' response.

Taking a ragged breath, Tom finally answered Harm's question. "Sir, by my count, and verified by my platoon sergeant, a dozen men suffered visible injuries and two more showed concussion-like symptoms when we made it back to camp. A lot of guys didn't report any minor injuries at first because the medics were all busy trying to tend to the seriously wounded and dying. Hell, I wouldn't have said anything if my commander hadn't noticed blood on my neck and uniform and ordered me to get treated."

_I could have seen that coming_, Harm mused. _Looks like the Marines don't have a stranglehold on sucking up the pain._ The thought took Harm back to his younger days, when he too, would ignore injuries and discomfort to power through a mission. Back when he thought he was indestructible. He hoped that he had grown a bit since then.

Meanwhile, Mac continued to remain silently behind the two men. _He refused to be treated until his men were taken care of, very admirable,_ she thought._ He'd have made a damn fine Marine._ If everything he was saying was true, and something deep down inside told that it was, then she'd seen this kind of gesture before. It reminded her of something Harm would do and has done before.

Harm's next statement snapped Mac out of her reverie. "Look Lieutenant," he began as he folded his arms across his body. "I know you and your men were dealing with a lot of terrible things at that time, but seeing as how you didn't include fifty percent of your casualties in the report, I have to ask, did you leave anything else out?"

Tom was startled by Harm's question. It wasn't asked harshly, but there was definitely command authority behind it. He gingerly turned his head to his left, where Harm was standing and looked at the much taller officer. "Sir, I swear everything we saw we put into the reports and sworn statements. The injuries, well I guess it wouldn't matter if I said it was an infantry thing would it? I know how foolish and macho it sounds, but it's the truth."

Not convinced yet, but not willing to drop the hammer on the young man, Harm pressed on. "How do you know that you didn't leave anything out? That your men chose not to mention other things, aside from the walking wounded?"

The questions, however justified, hit Tom Daniels like a brick. There was no getting around the fact that the Commander had every right to question the validity of the report after uncovering a discrepancy in the casualty report. It bothered Tom that he'd allowed that oversight to happen and the impact of it momentarily took his breath away. However, there was only one thing to say that might convince Rabb that his men weren't hiding anything else. The only thing left was the truth.

"Sir," he rasped out, trying to regain control of his voice. "I will tell you how I can so sure that we didn't leave any critical details out of the reports aside from the minor injuries. It's because anything that could give us any insight as to what the fuck happened out there and how our own forces could have mistaken us for the enemy would be the most important thing to any of my men! The only thing we want is the truth about what caused that fucking horror. Our fallen comrades deserve no less!"

Harm could see that the young man was getting emotional and he was struggling to maintain control. He decided not to push any farther in hopes that Tom would be able to settle down. Besides, he had gotten a pretty solid answer to his questions. The force of the statement and the pure, painful honesty behind it convince Harm that at least the lieutenant was not attempting to deceive him.

Tom didn't notice that Harm was no longer pressing him or asking him questions. He had let the damn open and the flood continued out. "When my Soldiers and I moved out to locate Second's recon team, we were looking for anything that may be a danger to the rest of us, or that may point to what triggered the call for an airstrike. We searched for signs of enemy activity in the area and for signs of the Special Forces team. Coming up from the south, perpendicular to the route that their recon had taken, gave us a different vantage point to the impact area.

"We skirted the edge until we found the first signs of our brothers. I nearly fell over a helmet that had been blown clear of its owner. I couldn't read the name in the dark, so we kept looking. Through our night vision goggles, we began to see more pieces of gear and then we found them. Or more accurately, what was left of them."

The words hung in the air for a moment while Tom reached for his canteen. Harm noticed that Tom's eyes weren't focused on anything in particular, as he took a drink. The young infantry platoon leader took a long swig from his canteen, lowered it, stared for a moment and then took one more small sip. Closing the canteen, he returned it to his belt and started to talk once again.

"Sir," Tom began as though he was holding back powerful emotion. "I'm not sure I can really put into words right now what we saw when we found the recon team. It was bad, I mean horror-movie bad. The remnants of the team were towards the edge of the impact area, so I guess that's why we found all five members of the recon team, and they were all able to be identified somehow."

Harm nodded slowly. He could hear the struggle in the young man voice. The mental image that Harm was forming during Tom's account began to match the image that had formed as he poured over the official reports of the incident. Part of him wanted to put a comforting hand on the younger officer's shoulder, but he also didn't want to startle him and risk him shutting down. So he did the only thing he could do. "Go on Lieutenant."

"I don't know if I really want to, Sir," Tom replied, in a hollow voice. "But I guess I need to. Three of the five members of the recon team were already dead when we got to them. They were shredded by shrapnel and debris. Two of my men threw up at the sight of their mangled buddies. Hell, it was hard for their own squad leader to recognize them. The team leader and the team's point man were the farthest from the blast and we alive when we found them. The team leader, Sergeant Henry, was clinging to life, and unfortunately there was nothing us or the medics could do. He died not long after we got him back to the Company casualty collection point. The point man, Specialist Hu, was far luckier, they were able to save him, despite the fact that his right leg will probably never be the same again."

Then Tom stopped and thought for a minute. Harm could see the tension rising in his shoulders. In a slow, pained move, Tom pivoted to face Harm and looked up at the taller man, and asked, "Sir, have you lead bombing runs and close air support for ground troops?"

_Uh oh_, Harm thought. _I don't know if I like where this is going._ However, he knew he needed to tell the kid the truth. "Yes. I've done both. And no, I've never hit friendly forces with my munitions."

Unfortunately, that was exactly where Tom Daniels was going when he asked the question. "I see. Well sir, have you ever seen what your bombing runs have done to people on the ground? I mean, I know they were the enemy, but have you ever seen the results of your efforts?"

Surprisingly, there seemed to be no vehemence in Tom's voice. It actually seemed like curiosity. Morbid to be sure, but definitely curiosity. "Yes, Lieutenant, I have. It's not a pretty sight. The only thing that made it bearable was that they were the enemy and were trying to do harm to innocents and/or American forces."

"You're damned right sir, it's not a pretty sight," Tom snapped harshly. "In fact, it's a pretty fucking awful sight. Even more so, since they were our own."

Mac was worried that this was going to escalate quickly. She nearly took a step forward to intercede when Harm put both his hands up in front of him as a signal to calm down. To her surprise, Tom Daniels did seem to respond to it.

Harm, seeing the younger man attempting to calm himself, decided it was time to delve a little deeper. "Tom, were these the first bodies you've seen since you jumped in?"

Dropping his head and closing his eyes for a minute, Tom sighed a ragged breath. "No sir. It wasn't my first combat situation either. Hell, I wish I could say it was the first time I'd seen a dead American Soldier, but I can't do that either. But the other times were all pretty much gunshot wounds. A few shrapnel wounds from RGPs and mortars, but nothing like . . . this. Pieces . . ."

Mac's face contorted with barely repressed sadness and a sickening feeling as she watched the young man describe the rest of the scene at the impact site. It was heart-wrenching to watch because she realized that this was the only time he'd dropped the façade of the indestructible airborne infantryman. He was probably facing the demons opening for the first time since the incident happened, nearly a week ago. She noticed, however, that he never seemed to fully lose control of himself, despite seeing that part of him probably wanted to. That was something that he needed to do, because his duties demanded that he be able to lead his men into combat at a moment's notice. But those feelings weren't going to go away. It was something that this young man was going to have to live with, and the sooner he could deal with it, the better off he'd be in the future.

She'd seen death up close and personal, sometimes having to deal it out herself. The things that she had seen in Bosnia, Afghanistan and on investigations have been extremely tough at times, and they all have stayed with her in one way or another. However, the things she faced with Harm at her side seemed not to bother her as much as one would expect. She guessed that knowing that she had someone who would always be there for her made things easier to deal with. It wasn't always the case with things in her life, but the hardships in the line of duty always seemed less daunting when they were on the same team.

Harm, likewise, was troubled by the images that Tom painted for him. As the lieutenant explained the condition of the dead and wounded, Harm had a vision of the horror in his mind's eye. It was a very disturbing thought, but one he would be able to put aside, because he did not witness it directly. Tom Daniels, however, would always carry this with him.

While Harm and Mac listened to Tom finish up his statement on what he saw at the impact site and the patrol's subsequent return to the Company's position, another figure had quietly joined the group outside the tent. The wheels were spinning in his mind as he listened with rapt attention. Sean Stallworth had also heard Harm start asking the lieutenant the question about the causalities and had gone over to the side of the tent next to where the two were standing and pulled out his audio recorder. He remained inside the tent listening, even when Mac had gone outside until Tom's voice began to drop in volume. It was then that he exited to be able to record better and came up quietly next to Mac.

When Tom Daniels finally reached the stopping point in his story, Stallworth shut off the recorder and exclaimed, "Excellent. Got it all on the recorder. Thank you for your statement, Lieutenant. Good job Commander, getting the information we needed."

The young man's head snapped around and his eyes raged with betrayal. There was a flash of pain as the movement aggravated his neck wound. Tom felt trapped by the three lawyers and turned his eyes up towards Harm, as if to confirm the commander's complicity in the subterfuge. However, what he saw was barely restrained anger. The tall Navy lawyer had a stern, angry look on his face and was glaring at his Army and Marine counterparts. Tom followed his gaze and came upon Mac first and what he saw was the same look of anger on her face, as she had turned to face Stallworth. It looked to Tom like they had felt that the Army lawyer had crossed a line as well.

_Who would have thought that I would side with a jarhead and a squid over a joe_, Tom thought, somewhat incredulously. _What the Hell is going on with this whole picture?_

Harm, through gritted teeth said, "Colonel, was that really necessary?"

Not even blinking at the tone he received, Stallworth responded. "I most certainly do. We needed to hear from someone who was onsite in the aftermath of the bombing in order to corroborate the reports and sworn statements. You got him talking, I just didn't want to lose the information."

"So you just snuck up on us while he was he's out here reliving the most traumatic event of his life and secretly record it?" Harm snapped back.

Before Stallworth could respond, Harm continued, "You and I better have a talk inside, Colonel." And he brushed by both Sean and Mac and went inside the tent. Stallworth was both stunned and pissed. He was not about to apologize for doing his job, and he certainly wasn't going to let the Navy hotshot subvert his authority and try to take over lead on the investigation.

Just as Stallworth was about to open his mouth with a sharp retort, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned towards Mac who said quietly, "Sean, look, if you and Harm are going to argue this point, you probably shouldn't do it out where everyone can see it. I understand where you were coming from here, but remember how tenuous our situation is here. You two see if you can hash this out in a professional manner, while I take the lieutenant here for a short walk to clear his head."

Sean Stallworth almost argued against Mac's advice, but realized that there was some logic to it. He was never afraid to finding new and different ways to accomplish his duties, but also was above turning a situation to his advantage either. Mac's point about not getting into a full blown argument with Harm out in the open, in front of their interviewees was valid. It would only strengthen resistance to the investigators if the Soldiers here saw them divided. Sighing in resignation, Sean nodded to Mac in agreement and went into the tent after Harm.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews. The last chapter I know was pretty gritty. I am also aware that the investigation has slowed down right now. Don't worry, it's not going to continue to remain this way. I hope for my Meg fans, you didn't completely hate how I handled the situation. Honestly, she was one of my favorite characters. Anyhow, please enjoy and keep the reviews coming!_

Chapter 10

Harm and Sean walked into the tent. Each one was not happy with the other. Stallworth felt that Rabb was impugning his authority in front of subordinates and he would not tolerate that. Harm, on the other hand, felt that Stallworth was deliberately guiding the investigation in a direction that would best benefit the Army lawyer's career.

"You have a lot of nerve, questioning my authority in front of junior officers, Commander!" Stallworth hissed, once they were inside the tent.

Spinning around in anger and shock at the man's gall, Harm fired back. "You pompous ass. You have been pushing that kid's buttons from the start and have tried to make everything fit your own vision of how this thing should go. We are supposed to be looking for the truth, no matter how ugly it is."

Sean just glared back at the bigger man. He was not going to back down on this matter. "How dare you accuse me of subverting this investigation for personal gain! You don't know a damned thing about how I operate or who I am."

Scoffing, Harm replied, "I think I've seen enough. You want me to run down the list?" At Sean's silence, Harm continued. "First you come in all bluster and charm, making sure everyone we meet knows that you are in charge. Then you practically cut me out of the initial review process, try to woo Mac with your silky words and all the while formulate your own plan of investigation without consulting us. You wanted to pin this on the pilots and when that didn't work, you started to put the blame on the Airborne, despite evidence to the contrary. You barely acknowledge the work of the Brigade SJA, you demeaned the NCO's of First Platoon and you threatened the career of its platoon leader without any cause. You've on the verge of turning everyone here against us and making our job impossible."

Fuming at Harm's accusations, and feeling a bit sheepish at the same time, Stallworth defended himself. "For starters, I _am_ in charge of this investigation, and that needed to be made perfectly clear in order to prevent accusations of a cover-up by the Navy. And I resent the implications of inappropriate interaction between myself and Colonel Mackenzie. She is a very fascinating person, yes, but also a brilliant legal mind, which we most definitely need on this case. And as for my actions with the Marines and First Platoon, I was only following the evidence the way it appeared to me, Commander."

Trying not to roll his eyes at the man, Harm said frankly, "That still doesn't excuse your lack of respect for subordinates. You have succeeding in pissing off our most critical witnesses from the start and practically ignored all the preliminary work that Malcolm did on the incident. How do you justify that? Specifically the part where you threatened Lieutenant Daniels, pushed him over the edge and then when he's in a vulnerable state, you secretly record him. To make matters worse, your little announcement closed him right up again. We will be lucky if he ever voluntarily opens up to any of us again. That was dirty legal tactics and you know it!"

To Harm's surprise, Sean Stallworth actually looked conflicted and possibly guilty at the mention of Tom Daniels. Taking a deep breath, Stallworth looked away for a moment. When he returned to meet Harm's gaze, he had a contrite look on his face. "I will admit, I may have been a tad overzealous in my pursuit of answers. The lieutenant was just about to give us some real hard evidence when his conscience made him clam up. I didn't like having to push him so hard, but I thought at first he was covering something up. You have to admit, in our line of work, we see that more often than not."

When he saw Harm nod in agreement, Sean continued. "I was certainly not expecting him to be as ahead of the game on wanting to have solid proof before speaking his mind as he actually was. So yes, I came down on him hard, expecting him to admit that there had been some mess up on the part of his men or that of Second Platoon, something that he knew for sure. And I turned out to be wrong, as your approach clearly proved. For that, as much as it pains me to admit, I am glad I was. But it also led us to a far more murky and treacherous situation, with a lot of evidence pointing towards the SF team being at fault. And that will be hard to prove, given their secretive behavior and close-ranks attitude."

Taking another deep breath, Stallworth stopped. Harm knew he wasn't finished, as he could see the wheels turning behind Sean's eyes. When he was ready, Sean turned away from Harm and began again. "Now, the taping of your conversation. While, you may think it was underhanded, let me be blunt: I could hear everything you two were talking about from in here. It wasn't like I could ignore it. But the real point is, when he started talking about what happened when they went to recover the casualties and investigate the site, I knew that it was critical information that needed to be documented. Considering the emotion you could hear in the lieutenant's voice, I felt that it was best to begin recording it at that moment, figuring that it might have been impossible for us to get the young man to speak about what he'd seen a second time for the record."

Sighing ruefully, Stallworth continued. "While it may have seemed sleazy at the time, please understand that I really was thinking about the poor kid's emotional well-being while I was recording him. It would have been cruel to try to make him repeat all that based on how he sounded as he spoke."

To say Harm was stunned by Stallworth's humility would be an understatement. While a part of him thought that maybe Sean was doing an expert acting job, the look in the man's eyes convinced him otherwise. _Maybe there is more to this guy than just being an opportunistic jackass_, Harm thought.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath for a moment, Harm walked over and stood in front of Stallworth. "Alright Sean, why don't we see if we can't get on the same page and pull a new plan of attack out of the Lieutenant's statement."

Nodding his head in agreement, Stallworth walked back to the table where their files were and set the recorder down. "Alright Harm, where do you want to start?"

Joining Stallworth at the table, Harm said, "Well Mac is trying to get Daniels calmed down, so while they are gone, let's run through the recording and sift through the details on the impact site."

And with that, the two senior attorneys put aside their differences and began to look for any new leads.

Mac took the opportunity of Harm and Sean going into the tent to go over to Tom, who had been watching the whole incident with a fair amount of confusion, disdain and curiosity. When he locked gazes with Mac, she could see the torrent of mixed emotions roiling in his hazel eyes. She appraised his posture, which had gone from open and slightly vulnerable when he was talking to Harm, to stiff and defensive as she moved up to his side. Mac knew she had to do something to get him relaxed again.

"Lieutenant," she started softly. "I need to refill my canteen; could you show me where the nearest water point is?"

Reverting back to the platoon leader he was, Tom straightened up and said, "Yes ma'am. There is a water buffalo back in front of the Company HQ tent."

Seeing that Tom did not quite get her point, Mac prodded gently, "It looks like you probably need to refill yours, so why don't you take me to it and we can top off?"

Realization dawned on Tom pretty quickly at that last statement. "Of course, ma'am. If you will follow me, it's right this way."

Mac fell in beside Tom as they headed out towards the water point. "Take the long way around, Lieutenant, by the foot paths. No need to walk quickly either, you and I should talk."

Tom did what she said, but was very wary of her request. As they slowly began to walk around the row of tents, Tom moved around to her left side, as military protocol dictated. Despite several tense moments earlier, Tom showed himself to be a true professional as he did not let their disagreements stand in the way of proper military bearing. Mac could see that the young officer would always perform his duties to the best of his abilities, despite whatever personal feelings he might have.

"So," Mac said. "You're cousin is Daniel O'Brien?" When he acknowledged her, she continued. "I met him, briefly. Commander Rabb introduced us a few years ago. He's a fine officer and, well he's, um . . ."

With a small smirk, Tom finished for Mac. "He's quite a character isn't he ma'am? He is a force of personality, as our grandmother likes to say."

At that, Mac chuckled a little bit. From her short interactions with Danny O'Brien, she could agree with that. He had an ebullient personality, and could draw you in with a joke, a story or friendly gesture. It was always interesting to watch him interact with Harm, as they played well off each other. Mac wondered if his young cousin was anything like him in better circumstances.

A nagging question that had been in the back of her mind since being introduced to Tom finally forced its way to the front. "You mentioned that Commander Rabb introduced him to his, ah, ex-wife I guess."

Tom nodded in acknowledgement, so she continued. "Well, the last time I saw your cousin, was about three years ago, and he had a ring on at the time. I take it the divorce is more recent?" Mac said, broaching the subject as lightly as she could. Seeing Harm's reaction to the lieutenant's mention of Danny and his ex-wife had piqued Mac's interest. Danny never talked about his home life; she wanted to know what had set Harm on edge about the subject.

"That's correct ma'am," Tom said as they stopped in front of a big water tank on wheels, called a water buffalo by Soldiers. As they refilled their canteens, Mac asked Tom to elaborate on the connection between Harm and Danny's ex. "Well ma'am, Commander Rabb and a junior officer were sent to investigate a training mishap between my cousin's unit and some Marines eight years ago."

"Yes," Mac said. "Danny told me that story the first time we met. The commander's partner at the time was a Lieutenant JG Meg Austin, I think."

Nodding as he finished topping off his canteen, Tom continued. "Roger. During the investigation, Meg caught Danny's eye and apparently she was interested in him as well. After the investigation was over, they had dinner together. Then it was a series of phone calls and letters until she was posted in Washington state in the summer of '96. It took off from there and they were married the next spring."

Her brow furrowing, Mac said, "Neither of them ever seemed to talk about your cousin marrying the commander's old partner. Hmmm."

Sensing that he might have revealed too much, Tom attempted to wrap up the conversation. "But I'm sure it was probably just more fun for them to talk about old times and tell embarrassing stories."

Mac saw what he was trying to do and wasn't about to let him prevent her from finding out what about this issue that seemed to make Harm feel guilty. "Not so fast Lieutenant," she said with a sardonic grin. "Remember who's the lawyer here. No use trying to throw me off the topic. Keep going."

Sighing, Tom turned to face her and continued. "Well at first they were a really happy, fun couple. The wedding was really nice. Danny said that the guy who introduced them wasn't able to make it due to official duties. But Danny and Meg both talked a lot about him. They both saw always thought of him as sort of a big brother, friend and mentor. I guess I have always been interested in meeting him myself, possibly because I wanted to see if all the stories about him were true."

They both exchanged wry smiles. "Fair enough. But something must have happened between Meg and Danny if they are divorced now," Mac said, pressing on.

"Yeah," Tom sighed, disappointment evident in his voice. "The first few years were pretty good. They came to Massachusetts to visit the family a few times. They had two kids, Danny Junior in '98 and Laura in March 2000. However, that's when it went downhill. Since he was the senior of the two, the military catered to him more. Meg put her career on hold for the kids, reserving her commission to care for them. Between raising the kids, giving up a lot of her dreams and the increasing tension in world at the time forcing Danny into a lot of operations away from home, it really took its toll on her."

Mac could see that Tom was trying not to be angry as he spoke. "Meg was a real sweet person, but things went south at the end of 2000. He was ordered on another overseas operation that would have taken him out of the country over Christmas. He'd already missed several holidays, so Meg wasn't going to let him miss another one. She got overwhelmed with everything and said if he went, they were done.

"Danny didn't have a choice though, and was shipped out earlier than expected. He tried to tell her he was looking for a desk job for when he got back, but it was too late. Meg filed for divorce and took the kids down to Texas to stay with her family. She couldn't handle being a Special Ops wife and by the time Danny got home, she had refused attempts to fix things, even if he found a desk job. It got pretty contentious and Danny didn't see his kids for six months. It crushed him and it's been pretty tense between them ever since. He was shocked that she, a former Naval officer, would up and leave him in the middle of a deployment. I know Danny wishes things had gone differently, and he misses his kids. It's been really tough on everyone."

That was not quite the story that Mac was expecting when he saw some of the initial exchanges between Tom and Harm. In fact, she had originally suspected that there might have been some infidelity on her part, based on Harm's reaction. Mac actually breathed a small sigh of relief that it wasn't the case, as that was one of the worst stereotypes depicted when military marriages fall apart. However, since Harm almost never mentioned either Meg or Danny's name recently, she wondered if there had been a falling out between Danny and Harm over this.

"Lieutenant," she said quietly, as they began moving back towards their temporary office. "I know that you are probably curious why I was asking you about your cousin and Commander Rabb. To make a long story short, I had two goals. One was to see if there was any potential issue between you and the Commander, due to family considerations. And two was to focus your attention on something aside from the sights you saw on the day of the incident. Do you understand where I am coming from?"

Tom knitted his brow and lowered his head as he thought for a moment. Looking back up at Mac, the frown disappeared, and his face returned to its youthful yet mature visage. "Yes ma'am I think I do. And I do appreciate your efforts to help me clear my mind of those images."

Mac nodded in acknowledgement of his appreciation. She looked over at him and he turned to meet her eyes. Flashing her a small smirk, he said, "Of course, you probably could have picked a less inflammatory topic as far as my family is concerned."

Seeing a flash of the same wit and charm that his cousin was known for, and something she used to get from Harm fairly regularly, Mac allowed herself a small smile too. True, knowing what she knew now, she probably wouldn't have pressed so hard about his cousin's marriage to Harm's old partner. She was also glad that she and the lieutenant seemed to have put their heated exchanges behind them. While it wasn't critical to the investigation if the investigators and the witnesses were on good terms, it generally made life easier for all concerned if there was at least a level of mutual understanding.

They were just about back at the tent where they left Harm and Sean when they passed a small group of Soldiers from Bravo Company taking a smoke break. One of the Soldiers spied Mac and let out a long, low whistle. As several of his buddies started to make some, what they thought were under-their-breath comments, Tom Daniels spun on his heal and was in their faces before any of them could react.

"Lock it up, gentlemen!" Tom snapped as he leaned in to the leader, a big, thick-necked corporal. "Is that how you are supposed to act when you are in the presence of two officers?"

The group snapped to attention at Tom's order. However, the burly corporal looked down his nose on the shorter lieutenant and glared at him with contempt. If he noticed the height and size difference, Tom didn't let on. These Soldiers had just embarrassed themselves and their unit and Tom was not having it. "I said is this appropriate behavior when you are in the presence of officers, _Corporal_?"

"Take it easy, Lieutenant," the corporal, whose name was Hendricks, practically spat. "The boys just haven't seen a female in a while. Give 'em a break. No harm done."

Hendricks was about to turn around when Tom closed the distance and got directly in his face. "First of all, you better watch your tone, Corporal. I don't know what your problem is, but I will not stand for any more of your insubordinate behavior. And second of all," he continued, gesturing towards Mac. "This is a Marine Lieutenant Colonel, so you _will_ show the proper respect befitting her rank and position. Is that clear?" At the group's hesitation, Tom raised his voice. "I said, _'Is that clear?!_'"

While the group of Soldiers sounded off, Hendricks remained quiet. This only added to Tom's growing aggravation. _What is this asshole's problem_, he thought. "The rest of you, get back to your duties. Corporal, you and I are going to get a couple things straight, right now."

While the group of Soldiers sounded off, Hendricks remained quiet. This only added to Tom's growing aggravation. _What is this asshole's problem_, he thought. "The rest of you, get back to your duties. Corporal, we are going to have a small chat on professionalism and insubordination, right now."

The corporal snorted at him derisively. "Sir, you are barking up the wrong tree. Best take your Marine and move along. A warzone ain't a place for thin skin."

The bigger man tried to intimidate Tom by leaning in closer, using his full height and width as emphasis. Tom Daniels, at five-eleven and 190 pounds, was not a small man by any means, but the man in front of him had a good five inches and sixty pounds on him. But, the young lieutenant's steel shown through as he looked the man in eyes and said, "I'm giving you one chance to apologize to the Colonel and get your ass back to you company before I have to put you in a world of hurt, understood?"

Corporal Hendricks nearly doubled over with laughter. The lieutenant wasn't going to get any satisfaction from Hendricks, but he at least had some sand. The brawny paratrooper just continued to glare at Tom with content and Mac walked over to the two and was about to launch into a tired of her own when, a huge hand reached over and clamped down on the unruly man's shoulder. When the stunned corporal tried to shrug his should free and couldn't, he saw a smug look on Tom's face and a devilish smile begin to spread across Mac's.

Hendricks turned around and saw the hulking form and snarling face of Sergeant First Class Corcoran. Even a big thug like Hendricks wilted when coming face to face with a very large and very angry 'Mastiff' Corcoran. Blood drained from the man's face quickly and he saw his life flash before his eyes. No one in the battalion or brigade ever messed with Mastiff and walked away.

"I'm gonna tell you this just once you pea-brained piece of shit," Corcoran growled as he pulled the man in close. "You will apologize to both the Colonel and the Lieutenant, and it better be sincere or I will tear your ass apart and bury it in the fucking desert." Turning towards the rest of Henricks' team, he said, "And the same goes for the rest of you, you half-assed, shit-brained, sorry excuses for Soldiers! Now snap to attention and render the appropriate honors!"

Hendricks and his men did exactly as Corcoran ordered. The young Soldiers were literally shaking. Hendricks had really done it this time. Mastiff glared at them and snapped, "Now get out of my Goddamn sight, you worthless bastards. And if EVER see any of you act that way to an officer or a female, I will hunt you down, chew you up and spit you out!"

The team from Bravo Company moved out quickly, with Hendricks in the lead. Tom and Mac exchanged a look as they watched the imposing figure of Corcoran demolishing the upstart and insubordinate group of paratroopers. Tom had a satisfied look on his face. While he didn't need saving, Mastiff's timely arrival was probably the best thing that could happen to all concerned. A fight was avoided, apologies were made and the incident would be remembered, but never repeated.

Mastiff was still cursing and growling as Tom walked over to him. "I shoulda killed that big sack of shit. Disrespect my LT and a Marine light colonel. Fucking disgraceful. Woulda done the Army a favor."

Tom placed a hand on his platoon sergeant's shoulder and with a smile said, "Down, Mastiff. Easy boy."

The huge platoon sergeant growled a little bit and then shook his head like a dog as his lieutenant patted him on the back. "Good boy! Want a treat?" Tom reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of gum and handed it to Corcoran. The grizzled old NCO took it and winked at his lieutenant, who was trying to maintain his composure. The wink, caused Tom to let a snort go and his platoon sergeant gave his lieutenant a small, evil smirk.

Having just witnessed what she thought might have been the most bizarre series of events, Mac was stunned. She had remained in a defensive posture during the entire interaction between Corcoran and the unruly corporal. As crazed and infuriating as the run in with the men from Bravo Company was, the odd display of camaraderie between Tom and Mastiff just about shut her brain down. She had just watched a massive veteran paratrooper NCO scare off half a dozen immature and disrespectful Soldiers, and then let his young platoon leader treat him like a guard dog. The entire display was baffling to Mac.

"Thanks Mastiff. Probably would have gotten a lot uglier if you haven't popped in," Tom said, holding out his hand.

Corcoran shook the offered hand and replied, "That's what I'm here for sir. Someone's gotta protect your skinny ass." Upon hearing Mac's somewhat muffled appreciation, Corcoran turned to her and simply said, "Semper woof, ma'am."

With that absurd statement, Mac's jaw hit the dirt. Tom noticed and quickly said, "Ma'am, he spent four years in the Corps before he joined the Army. We'd call him Bulldog, but he's just too damn big."

And at that final comment, Mac finally lost her composure and began laughing so hard, that she nearly doubled over. Tom, laughing himself, reached over to steady her, while Corcoran looked on with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Her unabashed and hearty laughter was so loud that it caused Harm to come bolting out of the tent to see what was going on.

Seeing the scene out in the path a few tents up, the tall ex-aviator strode up to where Mac was standing between the two paratroopers. With concern on his face at his partner in hysterics, Harm looked at the two Soldiers and said, "What the Hell is going on out here? Either of you two care to explain?"

Before Tom could answer, Corcoran turned towards Harm and replied, "Airborne, sir! Sergeant First Class Corcoran reporting as ordered."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Harm said warily as he watched Mac start to compose herself again. "Mac are you ok?"

She nodded at Harm and managed to say, "Yeah, I'm fine, just feeling a little punchy. The heat and time change have made me, _dog-tired_."

Tom and his platoon sergeant snickered at the obvious joke. A strong breeze blew through the corridor between the tents, causing them all to cover their faces, even those still laughing. Harm narrowed his eyes at them and opened his mouth to speak before he was cut off by Tom. "Roger sir, we are ready to continue with our interview. Might I suggest we go into the tent to get out of the _howling_ wind?"

Mac and Corcoran started laughing at Tom's bad joke, much to Harm's consternation. But he figured he missed something innocuous and was content get everyone back into the tent to finish the interviews. He ordered everyone to follow him and led the group back towards the legal tent and was almost to the entrance when Corcoran said, "Hooah sir. _Dog-gone_ glad to be of service!"

At that point, neither Mac nor the two Soldiers could hold back the wave of laughter that followed. Harm could only shake his head and shrug to Stallworth as he led the cackling trio inside. _There has got to be one Hell of story to go with this,_ thought Harm._ I guess this isn't going to get any easier._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Sorry for such a long layoff after my last update. I had family in town visiting and some late nights at work. I am trying to move the chapters along at a quicker pace now. _

Chapter 11

For the next half hour, the investigators walked back over the events of the incident and its aftermath with Lieutenant Daniels and Sergeant First Class Corcoran. Tom and Mastiff were pretty drained by the time they had finished up, but the Stallworth's team seemed pretty satisfied that their answers were consistent with the official reports. The JAG lawyers also made copious notes regarding the odd evidence found in the vicinity of the impact site, including the suspect Special Forces over-watch position.

Harm asked the two Soldiers to step outside while he conferred briefly with his colleagues. Once they were outside, Harm turned towards Mac and Sean, "Corcoran's statements were roughly similar to Daniels'. While it would not be unheard of for them to have collaborated on a story, my instincts are telling me that this information is on the up and up. What do you think?"

Mac was the first to respond. "I think you're right, Harm. Seeing how the Lieutenant reacted when he walked us through what they found around the supposed link-up point, I feel that he was being honest. You could see how bothered he was because he understood the implications of what he was saying. Corcoran, on the other hand, just seemed to get angrier, because he believes that they were lied to by the Special Forces team and that it cost half a dozen American lives. We need to confirm this with both First and Second Platoon before we bring it to the Brigade Commander. We will need his help to get cooperation from Colonel St. Claire."

Sean Stallworth snorted at that, drawing a look from Harm. "I'm sorry Mac, I meant no offense, but given the interaction we saw between St. Claire and the 173rd leadership, I am not sure that even Markowitz would be able to compel the good Colonel to cooperate."

Mac and Harm both nodded in agreement. Stallworth was most likely right about that, but they had to try. Sean continued, "However, I do think we need to expedite our interviews. I am worried about getting bogged down right now. The longer we wait to confirm our suspicions, the harder it will be to break through the wall of silence that surrounds the Green Berets on this camp."

Again, Harm and Mac nodded in agreement. For a man who was as wrapped up in himself and his career as Sean Stallworth was, when he got onto the scent of something key in a case, he was extremely focused and professional. Harm realized that if they could continue to keep his attention on the evidence, then they might be able to pull off working together after all.

"I think I have a way for us to expedite our interview process and still thoroughly cover all the bases," Sean said. As the other two turned towards him, he continued. "If we divide the team into two pairs, with one finishing up with First while the other interviews Second, I think we can cover roughly the same ground quicker. Then we do the same thing when we talk to the Company and Battalion command teams. We can then meet up and consolidate our information and confirm or deny our suspicions before we go back to Colonel Markowitz. What do you think?"

Stealing a glance at Harm, Mac turned towards Sean and said, "That sounds like a good course of action to me. Harm?" When he gave his consent to the plan, she continued, "How do you want to divide up the team?"

Sighing with a small deprecating smile on his face, Sean admitted, "I think you two should finish working with First Platoon, while Malcolm and I interview Second. Because the two of you seemed to have established a rapport with the platoon leadership and due to my, um, over exuberance in my pursuit of the truth, I feel that it would be best if you continue to work with them. It may also be for the best that you handle the Alpha Company leadership from here on in. Malcolm and I will talk to the battalion while you are doing that, since he has close working relationship with Colonel Stepanek."

Seeing Stallworth this contrite and forthright actually began to impress Mac quite a bit. It appeared that the conversation he had with Harm either changed his attitude or at least convinced him that a different tactic was necessary in this investigation. If they could continue to keep this open level of discussion and free exchange of ideas, without the measuring contest, the whole investigation would go much smoother. And if the investigative team was at ease and all on the same page, it might encourage the Soldiers to relax more around them and open up.

The sound of the tent flap opening caught the attention of all three JAG officers, who turned towards the entrance. Expecting either Corcoran or Daniels, they were surprised to see Malcolm Bennett's legal assistant. The NCO had just come from talking with Maj. Bennett at First Platoon's area. This was Malcolm's subtle reminder that he was looking for some help in interviewing twenty hot, tired and frustrated Soldiers. The three O-5s had been so wrapped up with the information that the platoon leadership had given them that they had momentarily forgotten about the rest of the unit.

Stallworth turned to the NCO and said, "Ah yes, Sergeant, please give Major Bennett our compliments and apologies. We are just wrapping up here and will be along within the next ten minutes."

The NCO acknowledged Stallworth's directive and headed out to report back to Bennett. After he left, Harm called for Daniels and Corcoran to come back inside the tent. Once they were inside, Stallworth turned to the group and laid out his plan for the rest of the day's interviews. The tension that was evident in two Soldiers eased once they realized that Rabb and Mackenzie would be the ones interviewing their troops.

Once the group was all clear on the investigative plan, they left the tent and headed back to First Platoon's area. As they approached the common area out front of the platoon's tents, they found Malcolm Bennett talking to a group of NCOs. The rest of the platoon had assembled and were standing by, awaiting further instructions.

Seeing the approaching group of senior leaders, Staff Sergeant Mitchell called out, "Platoon, attention!"

The platoon snapped to immediate attention as their leadership and the three JAGs walked into the area. Bennett, being the senior leader present, turned to towards Stallworth and saluted. Returning the salute, Stallworth at eased the platoon and told his plan to Malcolm. The brigade legal officer nodded in agreement and had his legal clerk police up the sworn statements from the interviews with the squad leaders. Malcolm flipped through the statements to make sure they were all there and walked towards Harm and Mac to fill them in.

"Sir, ma'am," he said. "The squad leaders weren't very forthcoming at first, but I managed to get them to settle down once I explained to them that we weren't there to dishonor the memory of their fallen brothers or pin the blame for the incident on them. The facts we pulled out last night seem to point to that anyway, but it is hard to break through the solidarity and distrust in a case like this. I definitely think laying our cards out on the table made them feel more comfortable opening up."

Harm nodded and Mac gave Malcolm a small smile of support. With a slight frown on his face, Harm glanced towards Stallworth, who was talking to Bennett's legal NCO. Turning back to Malcolm, he said, "I understand, but I also think you might have been trying to off-set the rough introduction we had to them earlier this morning." Seeing Malcolm break eye contact and try to avoid eye contact with both Mac, Harm knew he had his answer.

Mac had the decency to look contrite and acknowledged Harm's mild rebuke with a slight inclination of her head in his direction. Usually when he corrected her or called her out on something in front of other people, it infuriated her to no end, but in this case she knew he had been right. Plus, he was surprisingly indirect and diplomatic about it, which was new. Seeing Malcolm Bennett shifting uncomfortably where he was, she said, "Malcolm, I appreciate your efforts with mending the fences. I am sorry my over-zealousness put you in that predicament. But don't worry, we've come to an understanding with the platoon leadership. They are willing to talk to us and are doing everything they can to help our investigation."

Visible relief washed over Malcolm's face. It was a hard sell to break through the walls First Platoon's squad leaders put up after the confrontation with Mac and Stallworth earlier. It was really only due to Bennett's reputation as a Soldier's officer and a man of sound reason that had allowed him to convince the NCO's that he was not out to get them. Hearing that things had smoothed out between the legal "Dream Team" and the platoon leadership began to make Malcolm feel a lot better.

"I'm glad to hear that ma'am," Malcolm responded. He and the two Navy JAGs then talked briefly about things in sworn statements he gave them. As it turned out, the key evidence and information they got from Daniels and Corcoran seemed to be corroborated by what Bennett found. In fact, a few points were clarified by several of the statements, particularly Mitchell's. They hoped that the rest of the platoon's statements would provide additional support to the theories they had.

Once the information hand over was finished, Malcolm Bennett saluted Harm and Mac and he joined his NCO and Stallworth in moving off to interview Second Platoon. Tom Daniels had gathered his NCO's and was making sure no issues had come up during their interviews. Corcoran, meanwhile, stood by and briefed his junior enlisted Soldiers on what was expected of them during their interviews. When all the preliminary briefings were completed, Corcoran gathered the entire platoon in front of Rabb and Mackenzie.

"Good morning, I am Commander Rabb of the Navy's Judge Advocate General Corps," Harm started. "This is my partner, Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie. We are here to go over your sworn statements on the bombing incident. We have identified a few things we need you to elaborate on. Please understand that we are only here to find out the truth about what happened."

With that said, Harm turned to Tom Daniels and motioned for him to come forward. The young lieutenant stepped in front of his platoon, with Corcoran right behind him. "Alright guys, I know this has been a long and painful process, but the Colonel and the Commander really are here to help. Sergeant Corcoran and I have gone over the official reports and our own statements with them and they seem to concur with our findings. They want you guys to help flesh out the specifics that maybe didn't make it into the report. We need accurate eye witness accounts, so just tell them what you experienced, but only what _you_ experienced, ok? Your NCO's and I will be right here, but if you just tell them the truth you will be fine. Clear?"

A resounding, "HOOAH" rose up from the platoon. Corcoran looked at his platoon leader and nodded grimly. Tom turned the platoon over to Mastiff and walked over to the JAGs while the platoon sergeant broke down the interview schedule. They would interview the platoon by squad, five Soldiers at a time. They would start with Third Squad, then Second and finishing with First, who had the least amount of personnel and were the ones most affected by the impact.

Tom directed the two JAG officers to the tent he shared with Joe Swenson and let them set up an area out of the sun to start their interviews. Then Tom and Corcoran opened the front flaps of the tent to allow multiple people to sit in the entrance and be briefed at once. Once the two JAGs were situated, the first five-man fire team from Third Platoon was called in and the interviews began.

It was a long, tiring process, taking a couple hours. The JAGs took a break about an hour into the interviews, when it became known that it was lunch time. After giving everyone a half hour break, Harm and Mac had Tom show them where they could get a bite to eat. It was a quick, tasteless, but fairly satisfying meal, even for the nearly vegetarian Harm. The break served to allow everyone to clear their head for a short time and certainly lessened the headache that both Harm and Mac seemed to be developing due to the heat and stress.

Once lunch was completed, Harm and Mac powered through the next two hours of interviews with the rest of First Platoon. To the relief of the platoon leadership, the interviews proved to be fruitful for the two investigators. The interviews also seemed to convince the legal officers that the Soldiers of First Platoon were telling the truth. It was a long and hard process, with the eye-witness accounts of the Soldiers on the ground adding more pieces to an already disturbing picture.

As they wrapped up the interviews with First Platoon Soldiers, Harm turned to Mac and said, "Holy shit Mac. These additional statements really paint a broader picture of what happened to those men. And I will tell you, it is not looking good for our Special Forces friends."

Mac didn't say anything at first. She just kept gathering up statements and reports and placing them into file folders. It was only at Harm's prodding did she react and finally respond. "Oh, sorry Harm. I just keep thinking about how young some of those Soldiers are. The things they've seen here are going to stay with them for a long time. I can only imagine how hard it's been on them. A lot of them look like they haven't slept in a week."

"Well the incident happened roughly a week ago, so I am pretty a lot of them haven't slept particularly well since then, wouldn't you say?" Harm replied.

"Most of them are just kids," she continued, after acknowledging his point. "Even their lieutenant looks like he should still be in school. There are so many thousand yard stares."

Letting out a long, slow sigh, Harm ran his fingers through his hair and looked out the tent at the Soldiers returning to their appointed duties. It occurred to him that she was right. "You're right, Mac. All of them have seen some serious action and some pretty horrible things. You can't blame them for looking as shaken as they do. They did lose people to a friendly airstrike being called in on their heads. It would screw anyone up. Remember when it happened to us?"

Mac nodded, remembering their trip to Afghanistan the year before. Things had been pretty hairy for them during that mission. Fortunately they were able to pull out of it, mostly due to luck and faith in each other. Others, like Bud, hadn't been as fortunate, but even he had been lucky enough to come home to his family. This battalion was sending six brave Soldiers home in body bags because friendly aircraft dropped 500-pound bombs on them, after fellow Soldiers mistook them for the enemy.

"It just seems so ridiculous that these kids need to carry this tragedy around with them for the rest of their lives," she gritted out.

Harm turned to face her and said, "Who would have guessed that our big, bad Marine was really a big softy at heart."

She snapped her head around to rip him a new one for what she thought was another one of his sarcastic remarks. However, when she met his eyes, she saw that he had almost shy smile on his face and a warm look in his eyes. The look they exchanged was reminiscent of the ones they used to share before things got so complicated. It served to diffuse the anger that had built in up in Mac and caused the tension to flow right out of her.

"Yeah, that's me, one big ball of mush," she responded with a wry smile. "Come on Flyboy, let's get these files packed so we can track down Sean and Malcolm and compare notes."

Sean Stallworth and Malcolm Bennett had just finished interviewing the last of Second Platoon's non-commissioned officers. The only person left was their platoon leader, Second Lieutenant Joseph Swenson. After conferring briefing with Stallworth, Malcolm called out to his legal NCO and had him escort Lt. Swenson into the tent.

"Lieutenant Swenson reporting as ordered," Joe said as he came to attention in front of the two Army JAGs. The two officers looked the young lieutenant over. Joe Swenson was normally a bright, motivated young man with a sharp intellect and an easy-going demeanor. However, since the incident, where his platoon took fifty percent casualties, he had a hollow look in his eyes and he had become quiet and morose. It truly bothered Malcolm, as he had seen what the younger officer was like in better times.

"At ease Lieutenant," Stallworth said calmly. "Please take a seat. Major Bennett and I would like to go over your statement and report of the incident in question and ask you to help us clarify a few things."

Joe did as he was instructed. Bennett and Stallworth read the Company's official report as well as his own platoon's report on the incident. Then they read off significant facts discovered during the investigation, looking for Joe to either refute or confirm. Stallworth deliberately withheld the names of the individuals who had given the statements that they were quoting, so as to see if Swenson would just follow along with the party line or if he would concur without knowing the source.

As Malcolm Bennett had thought, Joe Swenson did not refute most of the points brought up. While the young man was still shaken by the events, hearing that he was not alone in thinking that things weren't adding up about the circumstances of the link-up and bombing began to sink in. Most of Joe's guilt about the incident stemmed from the feeling that he somehow led his men poorly and got five of them killed. His conscience was also not assuaged by the fact that he wasn't the one rallying the remnants of his platoon in the aftermath, due to being knocked unconscious by the impact of the bombs. And while he thought he was hiding it well, his friend Tom and his commander could see it in his eyes.

The pain and guilt was also apparent to the two trained legal officers he was talking to. The fact that he was striving to own up to his perceived shortcomings as a combat leader had made an indelible impression on Malcolm Bennett. Even Stallworth had to admit that the young man was trying to shoulder more than his fair share of the responsibility for the tragedy. In fact, in his career, Sean Stallworth had never come across a unit that had young platoon leaders with such integrity and accountability. It was both heartening and sad at the same time.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Stallworth said after Joe had finished. "I know that by telling us what you experienced that night only served to make you relieve a very traumatic event. I appreciate you understanding that it is necessary in order for us to get to the truth. And I can tell you that the evidence is showing us that you and your men did everything they were supposed to do. You should be proud of how your platoon responded during the crisis, despite suffering so many casualties."

Seeing Stallworth demonstrate such compassion completely shocked Malcolm Bennett. His eyebrows shot towards his hairline for a brief moment before he was able to bring himself under control. While Malcolm freely understood that Stallworth was an outstanding litigator and a brilliant legal mind, he had shown gaps in his experience in both the field and in investigation. He also proved to be full of himself at times and a little too theatrical for Malcolm's taste. However, the longer Bennett worked with Stallworth that afternoon, the more he noticed changes in the man's behavior. It was as if someone had been able to show him the gravity of the situation and the hotshot lawyer finally took it to heart. _Whoever it was deserves a medal_, thought Malcolm.

If Stallworth noticed Bennett's surprise, he didn't show it. He continued to make notes on the conversation they just completed with Joseph Swenson and thought about their next move. Seeing this as the logical break in the interview process, Malcolm turned to address Joe.

"Lieutenant Swenson," he started. "We appreciate your cooperation and that of your platoon. Please convey our thanks to your men for helping us with this investigation. As Colonel Stallworth has said, you did a fine job out there. You need to remember that. Your men look beat, so go tell them to get some rest. We expect the investigation to wrap up soon. Once its concluded, you and your men can return to full duty. Dismissed."

Swenson acknowledged Bennett's dismissal and moved out towards the tent's exit. Malcolm called after him briefly, forcing him to stop and turn around. "And Joe? Make sure you get some rest too, alright?"

Giving the brigade SJA a weak smile, Joe nodded and said, "Airborne, sir. Thank you." And with that, the tired young man left, leaving the two Army lawyers alone with the reports and their thoughts.

Not looking up from his notes, Stallworth asked, "Well Malcolm, what do you think?"

Taking a deep breath, Malcolm said, "Sir, looks like Second Platoon's statements seem to fall in line with what you learned from First Platoon. And while it could mean that both units coordinated their stories, my gut is telling me that they are telling the truth. There are few holes in their reports, and most of those were filled in by our subsequent interviews. It definitely looks to me like these men were ambushed by the Special Forces team and had an airstrike called in on them. The only question I have right now is: why?"

Finally looking up from his notes, Stallworth had a thoughtful but troubled look on his face. Then a dark, grim look took its place as he turned towards Malcolm. "As much as it pains me to say it, but I believe you are right. Not that you being right pains me, but that the idea that such highly trained Special Ops Soldiers would mistakenly open fire on people they knew were coming to help them. It just doesn't add up. And I don't think we will find out the answers until we can break through St. Claire's wall of silence."

Nodding, Malcolm said, "Roger that sir. So what's our next step?"

Putting a determined visage on his face, Stallworth stood up and grabbed his notes and gear. "Our next step is to locate our Navy and Marine friends and bring our findings up through the chain of command."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Hey folks, sorry it's been so long in updating my fiction. Between a family vacation, the Easter holiday and a little bit of writer's block, it's been tough to finish this chapter. I don't wish to drag this chapter out, so it's a little shorter than usual. However, I feel it's moved things along nicely. Please continue to review and thanks for your __support! Special t__hanks to byrhthelm and michi uk for all the continued support and reviews._

Chapter 12

Malcolm and Sean caught up with Harm and Mac at the Alpha Company Headquarters. The Navy and Marine JAGs were waiting for Captain Cunningham to return from a meeting with his battalion commander. When the two Army SJA's caught up with them, the four took a few minutes to compare notes gathered during the platoon interviews. The statements from both platoons seemed to paint a similar picture of what happened to the extraction company. They also seemed to cast further suspicion on the tight-lipped Green Berets.

Once Captain Cunningham returned from battalion headquarters, the four lawyers expressed their desire to interview both the company leadership and Third Platoon leadership. Seeing that it was nearing dinner time, Cunningham proposed that they go grab some chow and come back in an hour. By then all the key players for the interview would have eaten and would meet them all at the Company CP for the interview. Stallworth conferred briefly with his colleagues and they all agreed that it would be a good idea to get something to eat and prepare themselves for the next round of interviews.

As they walked over to the chow tent, the four lawyers were surprisingly quiet. It had been a very long day already and it wasn't going to end anytime soon. In fact, most of what they had uncovered during the day had been fairly disturbing to them. Far from being a cut and dry case of confusion in the fog of war causing a tragic mistake, it was now appearing that there might have been a deliberate cover up by a unit of Special Forces. To say that the prospect was unsettling to the investigators was a dramatic understatement.

Upon arriving at the tent, they got into line and tried not to notice that the chatter in the tent had all but stopped when they entered. It was not unusual for Harm and Mac to deal with this type of situation while on an investigation, so they both tried to put it out of their minds. Stallworth, for his part, didn't seem to notice, as he was trying to pick through the very limited food options for something that he would consider edible. The only one who seemed bothered by the treatment, was Bennett, who was unused to this level of distrust from the Soldiers of the Brigade. Harm just put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder in support and nodded towards an open table.

As the foursome moved towards the table, they passed Tom Daniels and Joe Swenson sitting together with their platoon sergeants. The groups locked eyes briefly, with the whole tent watching. When Tom nodded at Harm and received an acknowledging nod of him own, the tension level in the tent seemed to drop, and the conversations started up again. Mac gave Harm a small smile, realizing that the way he was able to relate to the young officer most likely helped their credibility with bulk of the company.

The meal passed fairly quickly for the four JAGs but they were able to have some discreet discussions about how next to proceed. Harm tried to concentrate on his meal, but vegetarian options in the field were pretty limited, so it wasn't overly appetizing. Mac, for her part, was devouring the meat-like substance that was on her tray without any issues. Even the two Army officers they were sitting with seemed to be in awe of her ability to power through the meal without any complaints. Harm just gave a wry, knowing smile and decided to wrap up their conversation about how to interview the Company leadership.

When the foursome got up to leave, they again passed by the platoon leadership of First and Second Platoons. As Harm walked by, Tom said in a low voice, "Commander, if you need help when you go cryptid hunting, let us know."

Frowning in confusion, the tall former aviator just nodded and replied, "Uh, thank you, Lieutenant, we'll keep that in mind."

As they walked out of the tent and clear of the men of smoking in front of the chow hall, Harm turned to his companions with a puzzled look on his face and said, "What did Daniels mean by 'cryptid hunting?' And what the Hell is a 'cryptid' anyway?"

Malcolm and Sean looked at each other and shook their heads, not knowing either. Mac supplied the answer as she continued heading towards the Alpha Company headquarters tent. "A crytpid is some sort of animal or plant whose existence has been suggested but is not yet recognized by the scientific community, such as the Yeti, Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot."

_Of course Mac would know something like that_, Harm mused to himself. As he hurried after her, he said, "Well that's a really interesting fact, Mac, but what does that have to do with us?"

She stopped three tents down from their destination and turned to face her three male companions. "I honestly don't know what Tom was talking about. Maybe he was teasing us with the myths about the camel spiders being the size of small cats. The tales about those things have been greatly exaggerated, but a lot of people actually believe they are gigantic."

Something about Mac's theory made sense, but Harm had a nagging feeling that it wasn't what the young lieutenant meant. Before he could say anything, Stallworth decided to add his two cents to the debate. "Well wasn't the point of the mission to extract an SF team that was supposed to capture the Iraqi war criminal nicknamed 'the Soul Catcher?' I've heard some people at headquarters think he's more myth than man."

Sean's argument seemed to make about as much sense as Mac's did to Harm. Meaning that while it was a plausible explanation, it still didn't feel like the actual reason. There was something about the way the young man posed the statement and how discreet he was trying to be that made Harm believe that this wasn't a joke. No, there was something deeper in the lieutenant's statement, almost like a pleading warning about something dangerous.

Those same doubts were running through Malcolm's head as well. The suggestions made by the two lieutenant colonels just didn't fit. There was a quiet determination in the way the young man delivered his cryptic cryptid message. And what is it about cryptids that was setting off alarms in his head. There was something in what Mac had said that sent his mind down this path.

Realizing that Mac seemed to hold the key to the situation, he turned to her and asked her to clarify the definition. "Ma'am, you said that a cryptid is something that is more of a legend or myth than a proven creature? I mean, you did mention Bigfoot."

Nodding at him, she said, "Yes, exactly, something like that. Typically local legends and such."

"You mean like a Latin American legend about a beast that eviscerates and feeds on the insides of goats?" Malcolm asked with growing confidence.

Mac's eyes widened. She turned to face Harm and they both said simultaneously, "Chupracabra!"

As the realization of what was transpiring hit him, Sean Stallworth looked at his fellow legal officers and spoke softly. "So it appears that our fiery young lieutenant was telling us that if we are going to confront Colonel St. Clair and his men about their activities, they've got our backs. While I appreciate the gesture, it is most definitely not prudent."

The others all nodded in agreement with his statement. But Harm was also thinking beyond the initial implications of Tom Daniels' offer. "Still, it is obvious that the Soldiers of Alpha Company feel lied to and quite possibly betrayed by the Special Forces team they were supposed to extract. Unfortunately, with the evidence we are uncovering so far and with the lack of cooperation from St. Claire's men, it definitely doesn't prove their suspicions wrong. And that puts us in a very precarious situation."

Again, all three other lawyers nodded in agreement with what was said. The four of them all stood there for a moment thinking about what was transpiring out there in the Iraqi desert. The implications of a cover-up by a highly decorated Special Forces team could very well be disastrous. It would especially bad if the team really did deliberately open fire on their extraction team and then call in an airstrike on their positions.

As grim and unpleasant as that thought was to all four investigators, it was also quite clear what they had to do. Steeling himself against his own doubts, Malcolm Bennett squared his shoulders and looked at the three superior officers. "Gentlemen, ma'am, we all know what we must do. We have to follow the evidence, no matter where it takes us. I don't like the implications any more than the rest of you, in fact I probably like them even less. But I will do my duty as a Brigade Staff Judge Advocate and try to just see the facts of the case as they are. We need to find out what the rest of this company saw and then try to convince the Special Forces team to give their side of the story. For all our sakes, I hope they agree and we can do this without causing any more animosity."

Harm and Mac looked at Malcolm with approving looks on their faces, while Stallworth patted him on the back. It appeared that the investigation team was all of one mind finally and were preparing themselves for what was to come.

Upon entering the Alpha Company CP, they found Marcus Cunningham, his headquarters personnel and the Third Platoon leadership all standing by as promised. Maj. Bennett proposed that he and Col. Stallworth interview the Company leadership, as they were familiar with him, while Harm and Mac interviewed Third Platoon in the adjacent tent. All three O-5 JAGs and Capt. Cunningham agreed with the plan and broke up to begin the interviews.

After an hour and a half, both teams had finished with the interviews of the key leaders for Alpha Company and Third Platoon. Harm and Mac joined Malcolm and Sean in the Company CP. Excusing themselves from Cunningham and his subordinates, the four lawyers went outside for a break and to compare notes on the interviews.

The conversation between the four officers was low and grim. The information Harm and Mac received from the platoon leader and platoon sergeant of Third Platoon mostly fell in line with the information gathered from the other two platoons. Being the trail platoon, they did not have firsthand knowledge of the incident with the recon teams. However, they did send a squad up to assist with the recovery of casualties and to investigate the link-up area with the company commander and parts of the other two platoons.

Malcolm and Sean found that the reports from all three platoons fit with what was in the Company's overall official report. Marcus Cunningham and his first sergeant and executive officer were extremely forthcoming with information about the plan, the movement to the link-up coordinates and the actions during the incident. Like the rest of the Company, the leadership wanted justice for their fallen, but there seemed to be no deception. In fact, most of them disliked the implications that fellow Army personnel could be the real culprits in the tragedy.

Staring off into the dark desert night, Harm was contemplating where the evidence was leading them. To be honest, he liked it less and less every time he looked at it. When he first received this mission, he felt that he was going to have to try and prevent Marine aviators from being made scapegoats by the Army for a horrible and regrettable accidental bombing of friendly positions. But the longer he was in Iraq conducting the investigation, the less the whole issue had to do with Marine pilots making a mistake and more like a highly decorated Army Special Forces team opened fire on their extraction team.

He was so deep in thought, that he missed what Mac was saying to him. When she finally snapped him out of it, she said, "Harm, where the Hell were you just now?"

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he looked at her and gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry Mac, was just trying to piece this all together."

Stressed and exhausted from a long, confrontation-filled day, Stallworth was not in the mood for daydreaming. "Well? Any breakthroughs?" he fairly snapped.

Ignoring Sean's tone, Harm replied, "I hate to say it, but I really think the evidence points to the Special Forces team."

Even in the darkness, Harm could see the shadow pass over Mac's face. A look from Harm prompted her to respond. "How can we be completely sure that this isn't just a very good cover-up by an exhausted and angry group of Soldiers who just sent half a dozen of their brothers home in body bags?"

This prompted a hard response from Malcolm Bennett. "No, not these men, ma'am! They are real professionals." Malcolm saw the looks he was receiving from Harm and Mac and powered through with his argument. "Look, I know how it sounds, since I'm the brigade's legal officer, but you don't understand. We've been out here, alone and unafraid, so to speak, for nearly three months. Doing their duty to the best of their ability, fighting the enemy with calculated ferocity and bringing their buddies home in one piece are the only things on their minds right now.

"You are right that it could be construed the way you described it, but I am just not getting that feeling that we are being lied to. The emotions are too raw and they want answers just as much as we do, if not more."

Before either Mac or Sean could say anything, Harm spoke quietly. "I'm inclined to agree with Malcolm. Mac, you and I know that in every cover-up story there is always a weak link and things don't add up. This story adds up, not one hundred percent perfect, but that is a good thing. Group stories that are one hundred percent perfect sound too rehearsed. There is just enough disparity that it appears to be on the level. Besides, despite their initial misgivings about us, they've begun to warm up to us. They see us searching for the real truth and feel they can trust us."

Mac and Malcolm looked at each other and acknowledged the other's position. Then they nodded at each other and returned their gaze to Harm, who was about to continue when Sean spoke up. "I concur with Harm and Malcolm. Now that they know that we are here only looking for answers, they have been more receptive to us. There may be a lot of confusion, anger, sadness and pain, but there is no deceit in this group."

Harm fought rolling his eyes. It appeared that Stallworth's progress away from being a pompous ass was something that was not going to be accomplished in one day. _Thank you for practically repeating what I just said, Colonel Glad-hander_, Harm thought to himself.

Seeing that Harm was about to send a scathing response to Sean's obvious attempt at capitalizing on the moment, Mac intervened. "Well I think we are all on the same sheet of music now. And I am fairly certain that we have gotten all we can right now from Alpha Company. So the question is, Sean, what's our next step?"

It took Stallworth a moment to realize that Mac was deferring to his position as lead investigator. He looked at his subordinate and two peers and took a second to organize his thoughts. Once he was fully collected, he stated, "Since it is nearly 2300 and we've been at this since 0700, I think we should collect all our notes and prepare to call it a night."

The idea of getting a few hours rest sounded really good to all four lawyers. While they may be able to pull long hours on little sleep back in the States, it was a different story for the three O-5's here in Iraq. The heat, dust and conditions were sapping their strength pretty quickly. It would be more beneficial for them and the investigation if they could look at everything again with fresh eyes in the morning.

Taking the momentary lull in Sean's pontificating, Harm joined in. "I think that's a great idea, Sean. I know we could all use a break. And as for our next step in the investigation, I believe it's pretty obvious right now."

Turning to face her partner, Mac asked with genuine curiosity, "And what exactly would that be? Since it's so obvious to you, why don't you fill us in, Flyboy."

Just for a moment, their old verbal sparring that they loved so much was back. He flashed a quick grin at her use of the nickname she had for him. However, the gravity of the situation and the presence of the two Army officers made the grin disappear as quickly as it appeared.

In a voice that was low, but filled with determination, Harm replied, "We take this evidence to the Colonels Markowitz and St. Claire and get them to make the SF team available for questioning."

Malcolm grimaced and said, "Sir, you know that is likely to be a kinetic engagement right?"

With a small, wry grin on his face, Harm responded, "If they want a fight, we will give them a fight, Malcolm. You can't hide from the truth."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N:_ _I apologize for the increasing length of time between my updates. Things have been extraordinarily busy at work, with my boss being out for an extended period of convalescence. With him out, I've had to perform his duties in addition to my own, thus increasing my work hours. Also, things have been very tense for my family lately, as several of them were close to the Marathon bombings and trapped by the manhunt. Yes, everyone I know is alright, but during those tense few days, my heart was not into writing, as I was focused on friends and family. We also had some illnesses in the family, which kept my focus on them. So, while this update may be delayed, please bear with me. I hope that with things settling down here, I may be able to write and post with more frequency. Thanks for all your support, views and comments!_

Chapter 13

The four lawyers had gone to bed, intending to be up and ready to go at 0600 to get an early start on the day. Bad news, they thought, would not get any better the longer they waited. However, due to the exhausting nature of Harm, Mac and Sean's journey to reach Iraq and the draining day of interviews the day before, their bodies didn't allow them to wake up when they planned. It took Malcolm Bennett noticing that his compatriots were not at the chow hall at 0645 to realize something was amiss.

Malcolm tracked them down in their cots and got the three senior JAG officers up and moving a little after 0700. Even Mac's vaunted internal clock was off-kilter by the events of the previous several days. Sean tried to shrug off sleeping in as a non-issue, but Harm and Mac had the decency to be embarrassed by their tardiness. However, not even the ever-opportunistic Stallworth was about to complain to about lack of sleep in front of a man who'd spent the better part of the last three months on the move in enemy territory, fighting a war.

For his part, Malcolm, did not begrudge them for allowing their bodies to take over. They all needed to be mentally sharp in order to present their case to the brigade commander and the extremely suspicious and highly volatile Special Forces chief. This was going to be a very sensitive and potentially explosive presentation of evidence, and not only did they need to be sharp, they also could not afford to have their emotions raw and exposed from lack to sleep. That would only allow doubt to be cast upon their findings and give Col. St. Claire more opportunities to be evasive and make counter-accusations.

Once he had policed up the three senior attorneys, Malcolm led them to the chow tent to get some breakfast and to go over their strategy for how to bring their evidence to the two full bird colonels. The four JAG lawyers grabbed their food and settled at a table in a corner of the tent, trying to be as isolated as possible. This wasn't too difficult since most of the Soldiers tried to give them a wide berth anyhow. Despite the fact that Malcolm had taken them to the chow tent used mostly by the brigade headquarters, few people wanted to be near the investigative team, as the stigma of the bombing hung in the air like an ominous fog.

As the four of them ate, they quietly worked out how to present their findings to Colonel Markowitz and Colonel St. Claire. "The way I see it," Harm began. "Markowitz will be the easy sell, since the evidence points to his Soldiers doing the right thing. The hard part will be getting St. Claire to stop stonewalling the investigation."

Malcolm Bennett was not confident in that they could get Col. St. Claire to allow them access to his team. "With all due respect sir, I doubt we are going to get him to even listen to us again once we present the evidence we have uncovered so far. I bet he even threatens to draw _us_ up on charges."

With a snort, Mac said, "And who is he going to get to draw up those charges? The only four JAGs for hundreds of miles are the ones he would be charging."

The banter, while light-hearted, also hid some serious truth. Col. St. Claire was definitely a volatile personality when it came to revealing his mission or discussing personnel. Harm didn't think for one minute that St. Claire wouldn't try to undermine or discredit their investigation, if he could get away with it. Unfortunately, this was something that he had seen all too often from leaders who thought they were above the reach of the UCMJ.

Sean Stallworth didn't find the back and forth as amusing as the rest and decided to be heard on the topic. "All this jocularity is cute, but it still doesn't solve our problem. Malcolm is right about Col. St. Claire likely refusing to grant us access to his team once we show him that the evidence on the ground points to them opening fire on their relief. He will then subvert our authority, make counter-accusations and move his men out in the middle of the night."

Harm and Mac had to agree with Sean's assessment, if not exactly his delivery. "'Admit nothing, deny everything and make counteraccusations,' I believe the old saying goes," Harm said in a flippant manner.

Not able to keep the thought from blurting out of her mouth, Mac replied, "Kind of like your love life, right, Flyboy?"

While Mac immediately regretted what she had said, Harm's face darkened and his good humor disappeared immediately. Mac watched storm clouds form in his blue eyes and tried to take back what she said. "Oh Harm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Unwilling to delve into their personal issues in front of the two Army lawyers in the middle of an important investigation, Harm just nodded. However, he was not buying her explanation for a second. Coolly he said, "Alright, Colonel, it's forgiven." _But not forgotten_, he thought.

Mac knew that despite his words, Harm was not going to let this one go quickly. His pride was still hurting from the Singer trial and things weren't good between the two of them. Mac inwardly kicked herself letting her mouth get ahead of her brain. If this had been five years ago, when they were so close, they might have been able to laugh it off. But now, she had dug another pothole on the road to rebuilding their relationship.

Seeing that there had been some sort of dynamic shift between the Navy and Marine JAGs, Malcolm decided to power on through with the discussion at hand. "Ah, well sir," he said addressing Harm. "Just because expect resistance or even hostility from Colonel St. Claire and his team doesn't mean that we should change our approach to the presentation of the evidence."

Turning back towards Malcolm, Harm returned his focus to the case at hand. "I know exactly what you mean. We will present the evidence dispassionately and without wild speculation. The best thing for us to do is to highlight the path that the investigation has taken and where it is leading. If we can show that all the evidence points towards some discrepancies with the information we have received from the Special Forces team, then maybe we can convince them to open up and tell us what actually happened from their point of view."

Nodding in agreement, Sean looked at Harm and said, "Yes, right. If we present the information right, we might be able to make them see that telling us what they were doing may actually prove that they were not responsible for the resulting friendly casualties. Of course we need to keep an eye on the Colonel's reaction to the evidence. We all know he will take great umbrage at any direct accusations, claiming we have an axe to grind and such."

Before either Harm or Mac could join in, Malcolm continued. "I know we don't want to force the SF team to find any more reasons to impede our investigation, but we know that the evidence we have so far points to them being at least partially responsible for the incident. And since our brigade will be sending half a dozen men home in body bags, and have over a dozen more seriously injured, I cannot stress enough the importance of not allowing these people to keep what they know from us any longer."

Seeing that he got everyone's attention with his passion and strong words, Malcolm quickly added, "Ah, respectfully, of course, gentlemen, ma'am."

Sean was a bit taken aback by the small outburst of emotion from Bennett, but it also served to underscore the importance of getting information from the Special Forces operatives to try and complete the puzzle. The mystery of what really happened to cause friendly aircraft to drop their munitions on a unit trying to extract fellow soldiers was starting to take its toll on the investigators almost as much as on the members of the airborne. Even Stallworth was growing frustrated with the lack of progress. There was too much at stake, and too many dead and injured soldiers to allow for anything less than the truth to come out.

Setting his jaw, Sean Stallworth looked at his compatriots and said, "Then I think we know what we need to do." Turning to Malcolm, "I think it's time we go see Colonels Markowitz and St. Claire. Malcolm, can you go ahead and set up a meeting? The sooner the better."

A look of grim determination came over Malcolm Bennett's face. "Sir, yes sir! I will go set that up now. Give me twenty minutes and then come to the brigade headquarters."

Sean nodded his acknowledgement of Malcolm's request. Receiving his dismissal, Malcolm got up and excused himself from the table, heading out of the tent. Harm watched him leave, noting the change in the younger man's demeanor. The brigade staff judge advocate was a man on a mission and was going to get them a meeting this morning by hook or by crook. Nodding in silent agreement, he turned back towards the other two officers at the table, both watching him intently.

Seeing Mac's eyebrow arched in a silent question, Harm asked coolly, "Is there a question behind that eyebrow, Colonel?"

Trying not to let Harm's obviously irritation with her throw her off, Mac replied evenly, "We were just curious as to what you were so intently nodding about as Malcolm left."

Despite how bothered he'd been by Mac's jab at his love life, Harm decided it was a fair question. "He's got a lot of drive, and it's well-focused. Malcolm wants to know what happened out there even more than we do, probably almost as much as the survivors of the attack. These are his people, and he, as the brigade legal officer, feels that he should be responsible for getting to the bottom of this tragedy. I can respect that, especially since he is really trying hard to remain objective."

His answer satisfied Mac's curiosity and she nodded in understanding. However, they both noticed that Sean Stallworth had not said anything in response to much of anything since he gave his directives to Malcolm. Harm wasn't sure whether to be worried or relieved that the normally overly talkative Stallworth was quiet. As the silence continued, Harm decided that while it was peaceful, the lack of chatter from the calculating Army officer also bothered him. _Just what the Hell is going on in that mind of his?_ Harm thought.

Mac too, noticed Stallworth's silence. She knew that Harm was growing suspicious, and had to admit that she herself was a bit concerned. _What the Hell is it about this case that has three senior JAG attorneys constantly zoning out and doing soul searching?_ she thought.

Deciding that they all needed to be back on the same page before they went to see the two full bird colonels, Mac spoke up. "Sean, is everything alright?"

That brought Stallworth out his reverie and attracted Harm's attention as well. "Hmmm? Oh yes, Mac, I'm fine. I was just considering ways that Col. St. Claire could stonewall us again. Harm's point about Malcolm being personally invested in this case may be a point of contention with our Special Forces friends. They may try to use his involvement as proof of bias."

Harm shook his head. "That's ridiculous. Malcolm is only trying to do his job and find answers, no matter where they are. We've all seen him in action, and he's been very even-keeled the entire time. Not once, save possibly a few minutes ago, has he shown to have any personal agenda with this case. I think he's done a remarkable job keeping his personal feelings in check. Probably better than I could've done in his place."

Hearing Harm's response to Stallworth's postulating, Mac had to concur with his assessment. Not only about Malcolm's performance and attitude, but Harm's point about himself as well. It was another surprisingly mature admission that she had been seeing from him during this trip. Not for the first time Mac thought that maybe he has started to grow up to a level that even she wasn't ready for. The murder trial and its subsequent fallout really must have put things in perspective for him.

However, Stallworth was thinking about any epiphany that Harm may have had. He was only worried about defending his position. "And I agree with you, Harm. Malcolm Bennett is one of the best examples of a brigade staff judge advocate I've seen in my career, not including myself, of course. That still doesn't mean that opportunists in the SF community won't try to use his proximity to the case against us. Remember, there is a reason why they called us to come here from the States. It was to prevent any attempts to claim bias or tampering.

"And that's why I am going recommend that Malcolm generally stays in the background as we present the evidence. I don't want Col. St. Claire to have any reason to call our information into question. Not that I want to keep Malcolm in the background, because he has been a great asset to the investigation, but we can't leave ourselves open to any thing that may lose us our position on the moral high ground."

As much as it pained Harm, he had to agree with Stallworth. Colonel St. Claire had been extremely protective of his personnel, and very reluctant to allow the investigation any access to their mission profile. Any hint of impropriety by the investigative team would have St. Claire calling up to his bosses in Special Operations Command and getting the whole incident suppressed and the investigation permanently derailed. If they were to make a solid case to be able to interview the SF team for the investigation, it would have to be the three of them presenting the evidence.

"So that means that it has to be the three of us making the case, since we are not members of any unit here on the ground," Mac concluded aloud for everyone. "Well, I have no argument to that, as long as we don't cut Malcolm out of the loop. He's inclusion gave us instant credibility with the members of Alpha Company."

The three all acknowledged the point and agreed that they needed to take the lead during the presentation of what they've found so far. After spending another couple of minutes discussing how they would present what they've discovered, the three got up and cleared their trash from the table. Figuring they needed to give Malcolm some more time to secure the meeting, they stopped to refill their canteens prior to starting a slow walk to the brigade headquarters area of the camp.

On the walk to the brigade headquarters, Harm, Mac and Sean passed by members of Alpha Company, many of whom were anxious to see what the legal team had found out about the incident that killed five of their brothers. Tom Daniels was just coming out the tent he shared with Joe Swenson to meet up with Mastiff. There was a group of soldiers from their platoon outside cleaning weapons as they watched the three O-5 lawyers move off in the direction of the brigade headquarters. Tom watched the reactions of his men to the three JAGs, and saw quite a few looks of trepidation on their faces.

"Don't worry guys," the young platoon leader said to his men. They turned at the sound of his strong, but subtle voice. "Despite our rough beginning with them, I know they don't believe we were at fault. They have their sights set on other, likely more difficult targets. They know we didn't fuck up and looks like they are about to go force some hard answers out of a few tight lips."

The older soldiers nodded. Mastiff stifled a small grin when he looked at his platoon leader. _The kid is definitely growing up quickly_, the veteran NCO thought. _He's got a big future ahead of him if he gets through this mess alive._

One young private, Henson, let out a long slow, "Damn." That brought the attention of his battle buddy, Guzman. "What's the matter bro?"

Henson turned to his buddy and forgetting the presence of his leadership said out loud, "I tell you man, I know what I want to study in college when I get back to the States."

"Oh yeah," came the half-hearted reply.

"I'm thinking Marine biology is looking pretty good right now, hahaha!" was Henson's lame punch line. Guzman rolled his eyes at the bad joke and was about to say something when he laid eyes on his platoon leader and platoon sergeant leaning over the two of them. If looks could kill, then Henson was definitely about to die.

It was about this time, Henson noticed that he and Guzman weren't alone anymore. When he looked up into the grim faces of his platoon leadership and his heart sank as he snapped to attention. "You know Henson, it strikes me that you really should go back to school when you get back Stateside, and I mean as soon as possible," Tom stated in low, controlled tones.

"Uh, why is that, um, sir?" Henson gulped.

"Because, _Private_," Tom ground out between his teeth. "If you had a real brain in your head, the completely inappropriate and insubordinate comment you were looking for is actually 'Marine anatomy,' not biology."

The comment from his platoon leader stunned and shamed the young soldier. "Uh, roger sir. Sorry, sir, I didn't mean anything by it."

Trying not to roll his eyes at this poor eighteen year old, Tom said just loudly and forcefully enough that the soldiers in the immediate vicinity would get the message loud and clear. "Fine. And don't let me even hear a rumor of you doing it again. We are soldiers in the US Army and are held to a higher standard. There is no reason to act like a dumbass. Clear?"

The young private nodded and replied, "Crystal, sir!"

Tom held Henson's gaze a moment longer before locking eyes with all the surrounding soldiers. He wasn't going to have bullshit like this in his platoon when it could most definitely bring unnecessary thunder down on their heads. Satisfied that he had made his point, he turned away from the group and walked towards the Company headquarters. This was definitely what Capt. Cunningham had cautioned him about when the team arrived at the battalion headquarters. _Damn, she really is hot, but she's as dangerous as a wolverine high on angel dust_, he thought as he shook his head.

Mastiff fell into step beside his platoon leader and felt a small surge of pride. He quashed that issue before it became a huge issue, and made a powerful point to the men in the process. _Yep, this kid has got grit and smarts. The Army needs more like him. I gotta make sure he gets through this fight alive,_ the old paratrooper promised himself.

It was only a short five minute walk from the chow tent to the brigade headquarters area. Harm suggested that they check out the brigade legal tent and the operations tent prior to going to Colonel Markowitz's tent, to try and locate Malcolm. It was a wise move, to make sure they weren't walking in on a tactical briefing or arriving before Malcolm had a chance to talk to the commander.

As it turned out, Malcolm was in the brigade tactical operations center, talking to the brigade's S-3 (senior operations officer). As the three JAGs walked up to the two majors, Malcolm let them know that the brigade XO had helped him secure a meeting with both colonels and Lt. Col. Stepanek. The only thing that they were waiting for was the arrival of St. Claire and Stepanek. It should only be another few minutes or so, before they could go and present the evidence to the colonels.

While they were waiting, Harm asked the S-3 if the tactical situation in the brigade's area of operation had worsened due to the incident. The only thing the S-3 said the battalions could determine was that the enemy in the area scattered in the immediate aftermath of the bombing. That fact, in and of itself made the brigade intelligence officers very wary of the whole situation. It definitely led the leadership to believe that maybe there is a correlation between the lack of enemy activity and the incident in question. Mac looked at Harm and frowned, with Sean and Malcolm doing likewise. This was a bit unexpected, and added another wrinkle to the mystery of what went on that night.

Harm was about to dig deeper, when the brigade XO walked in and let the four JAG officers that the brigade commander was ready to hear their report. The four officers thanked the S-3 and followed the XO out of the tent. When they reached the brigade commander's tent, Harm stopped the others, keeping them from going in after the XO. The XO turned for an explanation and Harm said they'd be inside in one moment. The XO shrugged and continued on into the tent.

Turning towards his fellow investigators, Harm said, "Well guys, this is it. Is everyone ready?" When they all nodded in agreement, Harm turned to Stallworth. "Ok Sean, it's your show."

Straightening himself up a little bit, Sean nodded to Harm and then stated theatrically, "Alright then, into the lion's den we go."

Mac looked at Harm, who only shrugged at the obviously trite statement. However, there was a nugget of truth in it for all of them. Steeling themselves, the legal team put their games faces on and marched into Colonel Markowitz's tent to present their evidence.

_A/N2: Special thanks for all the support from fellow authors byrhthelm, flaunt, jeneral2885, scribeanimal and TnJAGAz. I appreciate the feedback!_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I am terribly sorry about such a long layoff. Real life has done its thing and kept me away from the keyboard. Things were extremely busy at work for the last two months, and home life has been quite eventful. I had a lot of family commitments and people visiting recently, plus a long trip out of state, during which I elected to put my writing on hold. One of the main reasons for the delay was writer's block. __I didn't want to force the writing, otherwise the chapter wouldn't meet the standards I have for it or the rest of the story. For those of you who have stuck with me, I appreciate the reviews, support and loyal reading. This chapter may be a little short, but I hope you find it just as poignant as I want it to be. Thank you all for support and please enjoy!_

Chapter 14

"Are you absolutely sure this information is correct?" Colonel Markowitz asked skeptically.

Stallworth turned towards the brigade commander and said, "Yes sir. We have compared this information against the reports from all three platoons, the company and the battalion. There is no mistake; it all lines up pretty clearly."

The colonel turned away from the four JAGs and towards several of the brigade's senior leaders. He saw the grim look of determination on his sergeant major's face and could see a wave of strong emotions bubbling just below the surface in Lt. Col. Stepanek's eyes. This did not sit well with Markowitz. Things were starting to add up that pointed towards the Special Forces team and that was not going to be good for anyone concerned.

"Sir, I am not saying that Chupacabra deliberately called in the airstrike on friendly forces," Stallworth continued. "However, the evidence speaks for itself. At the very least, it definitely appears that they are trying to avoid talking to us and clarifying what Alpha Company reported happened out there."

Markowitz could definitely see the picture that the four attorneys were painting. The picture, at face value, was similar to the one that had begun to form in his mind after reading the initial reports on the incident. However, because he was lacking input from the Special Forces and the Marine aviators, he had to wait for the investigators from Washington to develop the whole picture. And while he didn't yet have the entire picture, Markowitz felt that it was about ninety percent complete. That near certainty bothered him, almost as much as the lack of input from Col. St. Claire and his men.

Of course, St. Claire had not arrived when he said he was going to and Markowitz decided he couldn't wait any longer. Once Lt. Col. Stepanek had arrived, he waited five minutes more for St. Claire and then called for the investigative team. That decision was what led to Markowitz, Stepanek and several of the brigade's senior leaders to hear the report without a Special Forces presence. The information that the investigators laid out before them was most definitely information that St. Claire and his leaders should have heard at the same time the Airborne did. Things would only get more complicated from here.

"Sir," Harm chimed in. "Based on the evidence collected at the airbase in Kuwait and by investigators here on the ground, it's fairly obvious that, while the Marine F-18s were the ones who released the ordinance onto Alpha Company, they were not the ones in error. We checked the flight recordings and data on the jets in Kuwait. The Marines dropped their bombs at the coordinates they received from the requesting unit on the ground."

That news chilled the air inside the brigade commander's tent. Harm felt all the eyes in the room on him. Realizing that not only did he have a captive audience, but that he better choose his words carefully, Harm decided to continue.

"What that means is that the pilots received the coordinates for the drop from the requesting organization, and that means . . ."

"And that means that you are trying to shift blame from the Marine Corps to Special Forces!" The voice bellowed throughout the tent, carrying over the busy radio chatter in the tactical operations tent next door. Harm spun on his heel and came face to face with a visibly shaking and very angry Col. St. Claire. Harm drew himself up to his full height, preparing to do verbal battle with the Special Forces commander.

Colonel Jackson St. Claire was literally crimson with rage and indignation. However, despite the man's obvious anger and his seniority, Harm was not intimidated. And neither, the former aviator quickly noticed, were his three colleagues. The conclusion the four of them had drawn was just too clear: if the Special Forces personnel weren't directly responsible for the bombing, then they sure as Hell were indirectly involved. Not even the flaming red visage of their commanding officer was going to change what the investigation found.

"Sir," Harm began carefully. "If you will let us explain what we have uncovered, you will see what the sequence of events and chain of evidence has shown us. As we were just telling Colonel Markowitz and his staff . . . "

"Nice of you to wait for us, Commander," snarled St. Claire, glaring up at the taller man. "Or is that part of your plan to shift responsibility from those stupid Leatherneck sky-jockeys? Pinning it on my men while I am not here to be briefed and refute this slander."

"Sir, we waited until well past the appointed time for briefing before we started," Harm ground out, trying to remain respectful in the face of an increasingly agitated and provocative superior officer.

Sean Stallworth decided that as lead investigator and a fellow Army officer, he might have a better chance of calming down Col. St. Claire and helping him see reason. "Sir, with all due respect, we waited as long as we could for you. However, this information is time-sensitive and the requesting authority was present. I am sure you were quite busy, but . . ."

Stallworth didn't get a chance to finish his political attempt at reasoning with St. Claire. "But nothing, Colonel!" St. Claire snapped, moving until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Sean. The man's cold blue eyes were getting darker by the second. "I expect this kind of legal-eagle horseshit from the Navy and Marines, but I am absolutely disgusted what I am hearing from you. Aren't you supposed to be running this investigation? Obviously your reputation as a litigator far exceeds your abilities as an investigator, and, apparently, a leader."

To his credit, not only did Sean not flinch with St. Claire in his face, but his expression, which had started out as passive, had now hardened with his own anger. Sean Stallworth may have been arrogant, elitist and an opportunist, but he was nobody's fool and most certainly was not about to disgrace his uniform. The normally smooth, unflappable hotshot lawyer was now about to let the Green Beret commander know just what he thought about the Colonel's snide, and uncalled for, remarks. Apparently, Jackson St. Claire's extraordinary ability to zone in on people's perceived weak points was about to blow up, literally, in his face.

Just when it seemed like the Army's top litigator was about to lose his professionalism, and quite possibly his career, Fate intervened. However, Fate's appearance was heralded by a thunderous verbal explosion from the one man in the tent that could claim seniority over all of its occupants. And that included the indignant and furious Colonel St. Claire.

"By God, that is enough!" roared Markowitz, with a bellow that would make any Army drill sergeant or Marine drill instructor weep for joy. All eyes in the tent, including the ones facing off near the entrance, turned immediately towards the rear of the group, where the Brigade Commander was no longer sitting. The normally calm and collected Markowitz was at his wits end with clashing egos. He was tired of it all. Despite his peak physical condition and his chiseled recruiting poster looks, the Colonel's brown eyes had begun to look every bit the eyes of a man who had fought for his country for over twenty years.

Alexander Markowitz was beginning to show his age. He was the commander of the most isolated large-scale unit in the Coalition's invasion force and despite the shortage of supplies and the constant harassment by enemy forces, the brigade performed admirably. However, the last two months had pushed them to their limits. The accidental bombing of one of their companies by Marine aircraft was bordering on the straw to break the camel's back. Markowitz trusted his troops and their training, knowing they would do their best for as long as their country asked them to. But he hoped there wouldn't be any more incidents like this, as it was pushing him towards his breaking point.

No one spoke, not even St. Claire, as they all waited for Markowitz to continue. The hot desert air was hanging thick in the tent, almost as thick as the tension. As he looked around at the occupants, he noted the sweat, dust and exhaustion on most of the faces present. There were a lot of angry looks, mixed with confusion, as Markowitz was rarely one to lose his temper so explosively. He realized that he needed to say something to defuse the situation.

"I have had enough of the accusations, arguments and bullshit," Markowitz began heavily. "Col. St. Claire, you sir, are _late._ We waited as long as prudently possible, but there was no use putting off the briefing any longer than necessary, since you didn't deem it necessary to arrive on time. As the requesting authority for this investigation, _I_ felt it was essential to hear the report without delay. And what I have heard so far is, quite frankly, disturbing."

As he talked, Markowitz got up from behind his fold-up field desk and walked towards the center of the tent. The assembled staff and investigators parted as he walked towards the Special Forces officer. To Harm and Mac, it looked like a lion approaching its prey. When they were about two feet apart, the airborne brigade commander continued.

"I will not go into details of the investigation as I will leave it in the capable hands of the investigators, but before we continue with the briefing, I believe you owe our investigative team an apology."

St. Claire was stunned. No one talked to him like that, certainly not someone of equal rank. He was about to tell Markowitz to go shove his request when he caught the look in the paratrooper's eyes. The look was one of grim determination and barely suppressed anger. That, combined with the feeling that he was being slowly surrounded by a group of very pissed off airborne senior leaders, made St. Claire hold his tongue for the moment.

"Col. Markowitz," St. Claire stated quietly. "I can understand your irritation at my tardiness. The reason, I can assure you, due to critical operational reasons. It was not my intent to miss this briefing."

Markowitz listened intently as St. Claire made his statement. Then he took a measure of the man who stood before him. He was like many self-important officers he'd met over the years. Fairly tall, trim, athletic, handsome enough to inflate his already large ego. However, he did not have what Markowitz thought was the true spark of true honor in his shifty green eyes. St. Claire was doing all this for him, not for the greater good.

Knowing that St. Claire was not doing anything more than blowing a smoke screen for his tardiness, Markowitz called him on it. "I understand Colonel. However, that told me very little and was definitely not an apology to the investigators. Your attitude from the beginning of this operation has been nothing short of atrocious. You have kept information from my people, accused sister services and my own brigade of incompetence and/or negligence, and have refused to cooperate with this investigation. When the investigators come to present evidence found so far, you are not only late, but verbally abusive when you finally do arrive.

"Now before I ask the investigators to continue with their briefing, you _will_ apologize for your behavior. And if you again refuse, I swear to you that I will have your superiors on the horn so fast your goddamn head will spin! It may not get me anywhere, I guarantee you that it will make your life that much more difficult. Well Colonel?"

Realizing that Markowitz was not bluffing about contacting his superiors, St. Claire mentally sighed. He knew it might eventually come down to this. All of his efforts were about to go for naught, and to top it all off, he knew Markowitz had him dead to rights on the apology. Granted, it was likely warranted, but he hated being called out in public, especially in front of subordinates.

Seeing that the brigade commander was not budging from his position in front of him, St. Claire sighed and straightened himself out. He turned towards the four legal officers and said grudgingly, "I apologize for jumping to conclusions regarding your efforts. And I crossed a line regarding your reputations and motivations. I hope we can move on from this."

Markowitz knew that this was the best that they would get from St. Claire and turned to the investigators for their reactions. Seeing that they accepted the apology at least at face value, Markowitz nodded. He ordered for everyone to stand easy and get comfortable. They were likely going to be here a while, as the briefing needed to basically begin from scratch.

An hour later, Sean Stallworth paused for a moment and took a drink from a bottle of water he had been given. The tent had only gotten hotter and more oppressive as the briefing went on. Tensions still simmered in the over-packed tent, with even the normally stoic Malcolm Bennett becoming agitated at times. Col. St. Claire, for his part, remained quiet during most of the briefing. Sean could tell that he was still simmering with anger at being dressed down in front of the collective group, but the Army JAG felt the Green Beret had it coming, so he didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. And as tricky as the briefing was, it was only going to get worse, as he was about to conclude their findings.

"Major Bennett," Stallworth said. "Would you please run everyone through a quick recap of the highlights of our findings, before we get to the conclusion?"

Rising from his little folding field stool, Malcolm nodded in deference to his superior before turning to face the group. "Lady and gentlemen, I will quickly remind everyone what we know so far. During the night of the incident, Alpha Company attempted to link-up with the SF team, code-named Chupacabra. The extraction time came and went while the company waited in position over-watching the link-up coordinates. When recon elements were sent out to establish contact with Chupacabra, they came under small arms fire near the assigned coordinates.

"Within minutes of the small arms attack, the Marine F/A-18s flying air support were called in for an air strike on the link-up coordinates. Witnesses report seeing a star cluster launched in the sky near where the recon from Second Platoon was maneuvering. The F/A-18s delivered their payload within five minutes of being called and caused over two dozen casualties, including five killed, from Alpha Company. It is yet unknown how many casualties were suffered by Chupacabra, due to our inability to interview their personnel who were on the mission.

"The bulk of the casualties from Alpha Company were suffered by First and Second Platoon. Third Platoon and the company headquarters elements conducted the evacuation of Second Platoon and their casualties. First Platoon completed link-up with Chupacabra and all elements exfilled back to base camp for treatment and debriefing. And that brings us to the arrival of my three colleagues from the States and the expansion of the investigation. After two days of interviews and evidence examination, we have reached this point."

As he finished his recap, Malcolm dabbed the sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead. Turning to Stallworth, he said, "Sir, that concludes the recap of the investigation up to now."

Sean nodded to Malcolm and then leaned in to confer with Harm and Mac. In a surprising move, Sean deferred to Mac, who stood up and faced the collective leaders to announce their conclusions. She felt the eyes of every man in the room lock onto her, searching her out for any signs of weakness or deception. She was determined to let them see that there were no weak points and that there was only a Marine, not a woman, standing before them.

"Gentlemen," she began in a clear, crisp voice. "We would very much like to present our findings on the incident, however, we cannot since we have incomplete information. As you have heard from Cmdr. Rabb, Col. Stallworth and Maj. Bennett, the "Archangels" have given us full access to their reports and personnel for this investigation. Yet the personnel that the entire mission revolved around have refused to cooperate."

Mac took a deep breath, as she was about to set off the powder keg. She could already feel the temperature in the tent rising. It was time to lower the boom. "This report is incomplete because of the lack of support from the Special Forces unit involved in the operation. We have repeatedly been denied access to their personnel for interviews and all reports have been severely censored. And without anything more than a grumbled excuse about operational necessity, this stonewalling is bordering on obstruction of an official investigation."

Turning to deliver the fatal blow, Mac squared herself and locked eyes with the fuming St. Claire. "Sir, with all due respect, you have hamstrung this investigation with your complete disregard for legal procedure and it is preventing us for doing our jobs. To make matters worse, you are denying closure to the families of those killed and seriously wounded in this incident. We need access to your people, or this investigation will continue to hang over all our heads for a long time to come."

She never flinched as St. Claire got angrier and closer to blowing his top. The tall, wiry SF officer shot to his feet during Mac's last statement and closed the gap between them in a second. His pale skin flushed red and his green eyes flashed with unbridled rage. Mac, never moved, and matched his deathly stare with one from her own dark eyes. She would be damned if she was going to let even a Green Beret back down a Marine when justice was on the line.

Through gritted teeth, St. Claire practically spat, "You are way out of line, Colonel. Your insubordinate behavior has gone too far this time. I swear to you that . . ."

He never got to finish the statement as he became aware that Colonel Markowitz, his short, stocky command sergeant major and the towering Harmon Rabb were all moving between him and Mac. Harm's height and build put just enough of a start into St. Claire that he took a step back, allowing Markowitz to step in. This time, instead of being a mound of radiating fury, Markowitz was calm and poised. He was up to something and that made St. Claire worry.

Not bothering to look at any one else in the tent, Markowitz locked gazes with St. Claire and said coolly, "Col. Stallworth, thank you for your team's report. I am authorizing the four of you to take a fifteen minute coffee break and then report back to this tent. Thank you."

Realizing that Markowitz was moving the investigators out of the firing zone, Stallworth acknowledged the brigade commander's order and ushered his team out of the tent and into the scalding Iraqi sun. As the tent flaps closed behind them, Malcolm led them towards his legal section's tent, intending to get them out of earshot when the fireworks began in earnest. They trudged across the fifty or so meters in the dust and rocks to the tent and went inside without so much as a word.

Once inside the tent, Harm turned towards the group and said, "Well that went well, don't you think?"

The fifteen minutes came and went pretty quickly for the four lawyers, who after getting some water to soothe their parched throats, began to go over what transpired in the tent. Mac acknowledged that Sean and Harm's plan to let her call St. Claire and his team out on their lack of cooperation was a very sound one. The two of them had noticed that St. Claire did not pay Mac much attention when she spoke during the briefing. Seeing that the Green Beret leader did not consider Mac a threat, Harm suggested to Sean that she be the one to drop the hammer on his arrogant ass. That way he would be caught flatfooted and be more likely to paint himself into a corner where he would have to give in to their demands to interview his personnel or be reported to his superiors for interfering with DoD-level investigation.

The plan, though quickly thought of, was sound and worked like a charm. St. Claire came off looking like a loose cannon and allowed Colonel Markowitz the leverage he needed to make the Special Forces officer see that he would now have to contact higher headquarters. Their hope was that the threat would force St. Claire to cooperate with the investigation. Malcolm was sure that Markowitz would be able to get St. Claire to see that was the best for all concerned.

Once the fifteen minutes were up, the foursome left the legal office and headed back to the commander's tent, where they were met by Lt. Col. Stepanek. He, also, had been asked to step outside, not long after they left. Stepanek relayed to them that the brigade executive officer told him they needed to wait another ten minutes, as the verbal battle still continued inside. Stepanek, a grizzled combat light-fighter, looked at the four lawyers and nodded a silent thank you for their efforts so far. The subtle gesture was not lost on Harm, who despite squinting in the bright desert sun, returned the nod to the weary commander.

The five officers were just about to cook in their boots when the brigade XO came out and told them to enter the tent. As they walked back in, they saw that both Markowitz and St. Claire were breathing heavy, as were their respective command sergeants major. The brigade S2 and S3 were standing squarely between the two sides and breathing small sighs of relief with the arrival of additional people.

Turning back towards the investigators, Markowitz spoke softly. "Thank you for your patience. The Colonel and I had to discuss some things regarding your report."

Setting his gaze on Sean, Markowitz ran his right hand over his graying, balding head. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "After some spirited debate, Col. St. Claire has graciously granted you access to the personnel who participated in the mission. He will also gladly provide you with uncensored versions of his team's reports."

The dry wit that Markowitz was using when generously describing his talk with St. Claire was not lost on anyone in the room. In fact, it was hard for several of the brigade's staff officers to keep a straight face. Most pretended to yawn or cough, so as not to piss off their boss. St. Claire, for his own sake, had his jaw clamped shut and did not make any perceivable movement. His sergeant major, a powerfully built, grim eyed and scarred career Soldier, just glared at the investigators. No love lost there.

Finally finding his voice after all the tension and dry humor, Stallworth said, "Gentlemen, thank you very much. This will allow us to continue our investigation and hopefully have it concluded very shortly."

Coming around from his desk to shake hands with Stallworth and his team, Markowitz gave a small smile and said, "Excellent. Do you have any idea when you would like to conduct these interviews?"

Exchanging glances with his colleagues, he saw Harm looking at his watch. Cocking a quizzical eyebrow at the tall Navy lawyer, Stallworth managed to get his attention. Taking his cue from Sean, Harm turned towards both Markowitz and St. Claire and said, "Well sir, seeing as how we need to gather up our materials to be able to properly conduct the interviews, why don't we convene in the SF camp at 1300? That gives the Colonel over an hour to tell his men and allow them to get something to eat prior to our arrival. Does that work for you, sir?"

Markowitz nodded with a slight smirk on his face, as he cast a short glance back towards St. Claire and his sergeant major. Both did not looked pleased at all, but were also resigned to the fact that they had no other choice. Giving a few last minute directives to the team, Markowitz then dismissed everyone but Col. Stepanek and the brigade XO.

As the group filed outside, Mac turned towards Col. St. Claire, who was trying to leave as quickly as possible. "Sir, once my colleagues and I have gathered our materials and had a short lunch we will head to your unit's part of the camp. Is there anything that we've missed?"

Grunting a negative response to her, St. Claire again turned to leave. However, he was stopped by Harm's voice. "Excellent, thank you sir. We will see you and your men in a little over an hour."

Turning back to face the taller man, the grim faced Green Beret pushed a strand of red hair back under his cover and made eye contact with Harm. In a voice that was low and gravelly, with a hint of menace hidden not too deep below the surface, St. Claire replied, "Yes Commander, you certainly will."

With that, St. Claire and his command sergeant major turned on their heels and marched quickly out of the brigade headquarters area, kicking up a small but thick cloud of dust in their wake. Watching them go, and hearing the thinly veiled threat in St. Claire's voice sent a small shiver down the spines of both Harm and Mac. Their ploy to maneuver the Special Forces into cooperating may have worked, but it might also come back to bite them in the ass.

As if reading his mind, Mac turned to Harm and the two Army lawyers and said gravely, "It looks like our interviews with Chupacabra is going to make our interviews with the airborne look like cake walk."

No one could disagree. And none of the four could fight the feeling that something bad was coming their way, and likely very soon.


End file.
